I Thought I Hated Her
by Fire The Canon
Summary: Scorpius has grown up thinking that the Weasleys are nothing but a family who think they're better than everybody else and are there to put everyone else to shame. And he's determined to prove this. But a certain Weasley girl is making that harder than necessary. For the Hate-To-Love Relationships Challenge and character trait! boot camp. RoseScorpius.
1. Prologue

_**Written for Forever Siriusly Sirius' Hate-to-Love Relationship Challenge**_

_**Written for Aenaris' Character Trait! Boot Camp using the prompt 'indecisive!' (Indecisive!Scorpius)**_

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**Prologue**

My trunk was all packed, my books sorted and my robes laid out neatly over a chair in my room. Tomorrow, I'd be making the long-awaited journey to Hogwarts and I honestly couldn't wait.

I wasn't really sure what to expect once I reached the school, though. I knew of the Sorting, of course, which was the first thing first years did once they arrived. I knew that there were four Houses, each with their own qualities and misgivings.

I, for one, was hoping to be placed in Slytherin. I was perfectly aware of its bad reputation, but it was also the House of my ancestors – the House my mother and father were put in, my Aunt Daphne, as well as all my grandparents. I was already kind of considered an oddball because I didn't really care for all of that pureblood nonsense that was in their time, and I didn't want to be considered any more of one (not that I thought Slytherin was a bad House).

That's not to say I didn't want to be put there because I think it will please my family. I knew it would make them proud, yes, but I actually _did_ want to be placed there. It was where I thought I belonged. All Malfoys went to Slytherin.

With a feeling of glee, I picked up one of the books I needed for the next day. _Hogwarts, A History_ (edited by Padma Patil) by Bathilda Bagshot. I turned to the final chapter, smiling proudly at the picture that stared right back at me. It was of my father. He was standing in between my grandmother and grandfather. Each had their own bleak expression on their face, but it was the only photo I had of all three of them together.

No photos existed like that anymore. Not long after this photo had been taken, my grandfather was sent to Azkaban. My father would never tell me the reason why, but I know why. He seemed to forget that I could read.

I had never met my grandfather, Lucius, but part of me was glad that I didn't. He sounded like a terrible man who did terrible things. I was kind of ashamed to even admit that we were related.

Not long after he was sentenced to live the rest of his days in Azkaban, he died. It happened before I was even born. I knew my grandmother, though; Grandma Malfoy was still alive today, actually, living in a room in Malfoy Manor. She was very ill now, though. Father said she has been like that for many, many years.

I talked to her all the time. She often said seeing me made her happy, so I tried to make her happy.

My father's face looked up at me and I couldn't help but smile down at him. My father was famous – he was in a book. Of course I was taking it to Hogwarts. I'd show everyone. I bet none of their dads were in that book.

"Scorpius, it's bedtime, dear."

I jumped at the sound of my mother's voice. She always walked so lightly. I never knew when she was coming my way. I put the book aside and turned to face her.

"Okay, Mum," I replied.

She smiled at me and I knew it was a sad smile. She'd been complaining for weeks that it was too soon for me to be going to Hogwarts. But I was eleven – almost twelve – and my letter had arrived on my eleventh birthday. Of course I was ready.

"It will be quiet without you here, Scor," she said, inviting herself into my room and plonking down on my bed.

"You will have Grandma Malfoy and Father," I replied, choosing not to join her on my bed. I didn't like all the mushy stuff Mum liked to say and do when it was just us. I decided to sit on a plain wooden chair that was by my desk instead. That way, if she wanted to hug or kiss me and tell me how much she was going to miss me, I'd have time to get away.

"They aren't my son, dear," Mum answered.

"I'll write every day, I promise," I said, just to make her happy. I actually had no intention to write to her every day. Maybe once a week if she was lucky, but probably more likely once a term. I bet no one else wrote to their parents.

"Besides," Mum continued as if she hadn't heard me, "your father leaves on a long business trip in two days and your grandmother doesn't talk all that much anymore."

"She talks to me," I said with a shrug. But I knew she didn't talk to Mum that often. It wasn't that she didn't like Mum. Grandma Malfoy just didn't talk.

"Are you all packed?" My mother looked around the room, as if hoping to find something that we had missed. But nothing was missed. I had everything.

"You packed for me, remember?" I told her.

She gave another sad smile and nodded. "Yes, okay," she relented, standing from the bed. "I can't believe tomorrow is the day."

"I'll be alright," I assured her. "But for now, I really have to get some sleep." Not that I was tired. I didn't bother telling her that, though.

That was when she decided to come for me. On any other day, I would have retreated, but I could see that she was sad, so I let her hug me. Her arms were actually quite warm and comforting, and her lips were soft against the top of my head.

I let her hug me for as long as she wanted to. If it made her feel better, then there was nothing I could do.

"Oh, I remember when you were just a little baby," she whispered to me.

"Well, I'm not anymore," I answered.

"I know that, dear." She planted another kiss on top of my head (thank Merlin it wasn't my face) and broke away. "Get some sleep," she then told me. "You have a big day tomorrow."

I waited until I was sure she had gone before I closed my door and pulled back the covers of my bed. As tired as I didn't feel, I knew my mother was right. I did need to get some sleep. I needed a clear head for the morning, so the Sorting Hat would know exactly what House to put me in. I didn't want to end up in Hufflepuff, or something. I definitely didn't belong in Hufflepuff.

As I climbed under the warm covers and blew out my candle, I didn't even bother to remember that I hadn't placed my most treasured book back where it belonged. By the time I remembered that I left it on my desk, I was already halfway to Hogwarts.

It seemed that what was supposed to be a good day had started out to be a terrible one instead.

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_**I would like to take a long moment to thank Maya (lovinMaya) for beta-ing this for me. This is the first time I've really done first person, so I was very, very confused about what tense to write in. But she has fixed it up for me and made it a lot easier to read than the mess I originally sent her. **_

_**I'll be following my personal head canon for as much of this as I can, though some little things are going to have to change to fit the nature of the challenge I'm writing it for. But, being next-gen, the beauty is that there's no right and wrong to it. I just kind of feel that I'm betraying my head canon :P The little details are my head canon, though.**_

_**So, here is the prologue. I think I'll be updating this every 3-4 weeks, so chapters won't be coming quickly, but for me, I find writing chapters slowly makes them better. Please leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think. **_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The morning started off well enough. I woke up to a rare sunny day when our house-elf, Trixie, drew the curtains back from my window.

"Wake up, Master Malfoy!" the little house-elf cried. "Breakfast is ready. Master Malfoy needs to be ready to board the Hogwarts Express today, sir."

I sat up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. I stared around the bright room until my eyes fell on Trixie. "Er... thank you," I said. "I will be there soon."

The house-elf beamed (if that was possible for a house-elf) and exited my room, leaving me to myself. It wasn't that I didn't like having the house-elves around. After all, they did all my cleaning for me. But they did kind of get in the way after a while, and I seemed to have no privacy.

And my mother and father didn't treat them all particularly nicely, either. My father told me that when he was my age, wizards weren't forced to pay house-elves for their work. He said that they did it for free.

But now it was different. Mum and Father are not at all happy about that either. They say it is a waste of good Galleons.

I disagree. My parents like to get paid for the work they do, don't they? So why should it be any different for house-elves? Father got angry with me when I told him that. He said I sounded like _them_, whoever _them_ was. Perhaps he meant the Ministry of Magic. That was who made that rule.

I climbed out of bed and stumbled sleepily into the kitchen on the level below. Mum was already there, her face white and sunken. She looked worried. Father was opposite her with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ resting on the table in front of him. Grandma Malfoy was also there and she gave me a warm smile as I entered.

"Ready for school, Scorpius?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes, Grandma," I answered. "I can't wait."

That was the truth, but Mum's expression told me that she thought differently. As I took the seat beside her at the table, my father reached out a hand and placed it over my mother's.

"He'll be alright," he told her. His tone was convincing, like there was something I mightn't be alright from.

My heart started to beat just a little bit faster. "Of course I'll be alright," I said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Both my parents shared a look after that and that was the beginning of my bad day. I was worried, now. There was something they weren't telling me. Something that I probably needed to know.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

Mum shook her head. "Nothing," she told me, forcing a smile. "I'm just worrying over nothing." She patted my arm in a less-than-convincing manner.

"He needs to know, Astoria," Father then stated. I turned to him.

"What do I need to know? I've been practicing the spells for months. I've been reading the books... I'll know everything, right?"

They exchanged another look and Father turned to me. He nodded. "Your ability to do magic is something to be admired, Scorpius," he said. "But, intelligence is not all that is important at Hogwarts."

I shook my head. "No, it isn't," I said. "There's ambition and self-preservation as well." That was the motto of Slytherin, wasn't it? Something like that, anyway.

Father nodded again. "Yes, but, Scorpius..." He paused briefly, "Do you remember how I told you about what happened in my last year at Hogwarts?"

I nodded. "Of course. It was the year the Dark Lord overtook Hogwarts and he tried to banish anybody who didn't have pure blood." Grandma Malfoy had also told me everything Father didn't. I didn't tell him that, though.

"And you know how our family – the Malfoys – were... followers, don't you?"

I nodded again. I had seen Father's mark on his arm. I knew what it meant. He was ashamed of it, but I told him not to be. He had been forced to get it.

"Well, Scorpius... there are people around who still believe our family are Dark wizards; that if the Dark Lord were alive today, we would still be supporting him."

"What?" That was absolutely preposterous. How could anybody think that? Father worked at the Ministry of Magic; he worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He put Dark wizards in Azkaban.

"It's not true, of course," Mum interjected. I didn't bother to mention that she still thought purebloods were superior to others. She wouldn't like that.

"What does that have to do with me, though?" I questioned. It didn't make much sense.

Father swallowed. "Well, Scor, there may be some people you encounter who... who don't like you, just because of your name."

I didn't say anything straight away. It sounded a bit stupid that someone would hate me just because my name was Scorpius. Most probably didn't even know I existed.

"Okay, I just won't tell them my name is Scorpius," I said, as if that would solve everything.

They shared a look again.

"What?" I demanded.

"Scor, that's not the name your father was talking about," Mum said gently. "It's the name _Malfoy_."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. I knew that my family wasn't highly respected in the wizarding world anymore, but I didn't think it gave them any right to hate me because of it. They didn't even know me.

"Hopefully that won't happen, though," Mum continued hurriedly. "Now, eat your breakfast, dear. We'll have to leave soon."

I did eat my breakfast, but my mind wandered. I was beginning to wonder what would happen once I started to encounter people at Hogwarts. I hope they'd like me. I didn't want to form any enemies on the first day.

That would just be stupid.

OOO

We arrived at King's Cross station with half an hour to spare. I was ready really early and I think Mum was nervous.

My parents generally tend to arrive more fashionably than through The Leaky Cauldron, but that was how we got there today. Mum had to buy some things in Diagon Alley first and then Father organised one of his Ministry cars to get us to the station.

I don't like the pub very much. It's kind of creepy and lots of people stare. Ever since they told me that people might dislike me because I was a Malfoy, it seemed that everybody was staring at me in disdain.

I didn't like it at all, but thankfully, we left pretty quickly. As soon as we stepped out onto sunny street, Father brushed the dirt from his robes, as did Mum and myself.

With Father dragging my trunk and Mum with her arm across my shoulders, we looked quite an odd trio to Muggle passersby as we piled into the car. It picked us up on the Muggle side of London, which was even worse. I didn't like Muggle London that much. People always looked at us strangely.

But we made it onto the platform relatively quickly and walked hurriedly towards the barrier that would let us enter the world I was familiar with. I actually had never seen the Hogwarts Express up close before. I'd seen pictures of it in books, but that was all.

My heart beat rapidly against my chest as I braced myself for what was to come. Father was with me when I ran through the wall and when I reached the other side, I couldn't help but smile.

It was wondrous. Even though we were early, there were plenty of people there already – some in their Hogwarts robes, but most were wearing odd, Muggle attire. I was dressed in some old robes that I had found at the bottom of my wardrobe this morning. Mum had asked me to change, but I refused. All my good robes were for Hogwarts. I'd discard these once I changed.

"Well, let's get your things on the train, Scor," Father said and we made our way to the big, red engine that was steaming from the top.

If I hadn't been spoken to by my parents earlier, I would probably not have noticed the wide berth people gave the three of us. It was disconcerting to see that people looked on with either fear or distaste.

Even as Father handed my trunk to the train wizard, the man gave us a funny look. I smiled at him in the hope that he would feel okay with being around me, but Mum soon dragged me away, mumbling something about people being so rude.

We found a small clearing where nobody was standing and that was where we stopped. There were already people on the train and part of me wanted to join them. I knew I'd be waiting a while before it actually left, but that was okay.

But Mum wouldn't hear of it.

"I don't want you to go," she complained, pulling me in for a tight hug.

I had very pale skin, so it was probably quite obvious that my cheeks were burning red in that moment. Why did she always have to do that? Why did she have to be so embarrassing?

"Well, I have to," I stated, a little more harshly than I intended. I broke away from her embrace and stared up at her. Oh, now she was going to want to kiss me goodbye too. I knew that look.

"I'm not going to see you for some time, Scorpius," she said, hurt clear in her voice, as I ducked away.

"I'll write, I promise," I said.

"Scorpius." Father's voice was stern, a warning.

I sighed. "Alright," I relented, not wanting to leave my parents on bad terms, after all. I'd already said goodbye to Grandma Malfoy earlier this morning. She had wished me luck and then slipped a few Galleons into my hand without my parents' notice.

_Just in case_, she had whispered and then kissed my cheek. I could still feel the weight of them in my pocket. I heard there was a trolley lady on the train. Maybe I'd buy some sweets with them. Mum would never allow sweets in our house.

Mum kissed me more times than I wished her to, but I didn't argue with her. I just endured the embarrassment. If it would make her happy, then I guess that was okay.

Once she had finally pulled away, I made for the train, but ran into Father in the process. I looked up at him, about to ask why he was standing in my way (he'd always been okay with me going to Hogwarts – it was Mum who was worried) when I saw that he wasn't even looking at me.

His expression was somewhere in the distance and as I tried to peer over the many heads of students and parents, I noticed what he was looking at. There was a lot of red hair over there and also some dark.

I knew about Harry Potter, of course. I knew what he had done. Along with my father, he was also in _Hogwarts, A History_ now. There were a lot more pictures of him in there too, which always kind of annoyed me.

He always got in the _Daily Prophet_. Why did he have to be in a book too?

I also knew about Ginny Potter – the famous Quidditch player – and her older brother, Ron Weasley and his wife, Hermione Weasley. They were all famous. More famous than my father ever had been.

Father didn't like them either. He said he worked with Hermione Weasley at the Ministry, but they didn't talk all that much. They only talked when they had to.

But, Father still acknowledged them when they looked our way. They also had children with them – they had a lot of children. Two looked really nervous, which made me think they were just starting too.

All Weasleys and Potters were in Gryffindor, though, so I probably wouldn't have to worry about seeing any of them all that much.

"Don't worry, I won't talk to any of them," I said to Father.

Mum ran her fingers through my hair, smiling down at me, but Father didn't look as pleased. "Now, that isn't very nice, Scorpius," he scolded.

I frowned.

"If you want people to like you, Scorpius, you will have to be nice to people."

I didn't think anybody with the name Weasley or Potter would like me even if I showered them in flowers. That was the impression Mum had given me when I asked if she or Father had known them.

"But still," Mum added, "be careful around them." In other words, ignore what Father says and don't go making friends with them.

I nodded. I didn't want to be friends with people like that, anyway. I didn't like people who thought they were better than everybody else. And no doubt they would think that. After all, they had famous parents.

A whistle sounded – a ten minute warning.

"You better get on the train, Scorpius," Father said. "Unless you miss it."

"That wouldn't be a problem," Mum said, her hand resting on my shoulder.

I shook my head, shaking her off. "I'm going," I said. "Bye." I gave them both another hug goodbye and before Mum could change her mind, I disappeared into the crowd of people, trying to make my way through the train.

I didn't really know where I was going, though. Maybe I'd try and find my cousins, Lilac and Stefania. They were older than me and probably wouldn't want me interfering with them, I assumed. They were like that a lot.

I don't think they liked me all that much.

The train was really crowded. There were first years being pushed over by third years. The really old students – probably seventh years – were half-heartedly trying to control the crowd, but no one paid them attention. Why would they when they weren't even at Hogwarts yet?

I wandered through the first carriage, glancing into the compartments as I did. They were all full and it seemed no one wanted a first year sharing one with them.

So I moved on.

I reached the second carriage, but that was much the same as the first. It was full of third and fourth years – mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. It wasn't that I didn't like them, but I didn't want to associate with people I knew I wasn't going to be in the same House as. There was no point, especially as they were a lot older.

I reached the third carriage, and that seemed to be where most of the first years were gathered. There were a group of Slytherins who seemed to enjoy pushing the younger students around, also. I recognised one as Henry Goyle. I knew Henry. He was big and mean, and I really didn't like it when Father invited Henry and his parents over to our place.

My parents seemed to think we could be friends. They didn't know how much of a bully Henry could be, though.

I tried to pass without getting his attention, but there was no use. He was only a second year, but he was big for his age and he towered over a lot of the fourth years.

"Scorpius!" he called loudly.

I swallowed, turning around to face him. "Hi," I said reluctantly. "Er... isn't this the first year carriage?"

Henry laughed, his voice booming through the whole carriage. I saw some students stick their heads out of the compartment doors to see what the racket was. This was the last thing I wanted – to draw attention to myself with Henry around. Now everyone was going to think we were friends.

"You think you own this carriage, do you, Malfoy?" he asked.

"No!" I answered quickly. I certainly didn't want to find myself hanging by my ankles from the train roof before we'd even left King's Cross.

Henry clapped me on the back. "Don't you worry, Malfoy. If any of these kids give you a hard time, I've got your back."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. Most of the time, it was best not to answer to Henry.

He gave me a light shove (which still sent me sprawling into two first year girls), and he and his friends disappeared into the carriage I had just come from.

I sighed, relieved that he wasn't staying.

I roughly apologised to the two girls I had startled (I doubted they'd become my friends anytime soon) and moved on. Even in the first year carriage, the compartments were full to the brim. There was only one that had two empty seats in it and, of course, it had to be the very one I _didn't_ want to sit in. I actually think I would have preferred to sit with Henry than the Potter and Weasley children. There were a lot of them and I stood in the doorway for longer than necessary, trying to process what I was seeing.

"Are you going to come in?" one of them eventually asked. He had dark hair and green eyes. I wish I knew his name. I didn't like referring to him as Potter or Weasley – I didn't even know which of them he was.

I entered hesitantly, knowing that five pairs of eyes were all on me. I tried to ignore them, but it was difficult. They just kept watching.

"So..." It was the green-eyed boy again. "Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts?"

I nodded, taking a seat next to a dark-haired girl. She smiled at me and it took me a long moment to realise that she was wearing green robes. She was a Slytherin. She couldn't possibly have been a Weasley, then.

"What House do you think you'll get into?" That was a red-haired girl. I'd actually seen her on the platform, I think. She was one of the few already in her Hogwarts robes.

"Slytherin." I didn't even hesitate on my answer, but it received many sniggers from all over the compartment. All except the girl sitting right beside me.

"Ignore them," she said. "They're just jealous." She held out her hand to me. "Molly Weasley, second year Slytherin."

My eyes widened in surprise. Had she just said Weasley and Slytherin in the same sentence?

Another boy – also with dark hair – (wow, there was only one red-head in the place I just realised) laughed. "You sound surprised?" he observed.

"Um... no," I said uncertainly. Why was I even here? I probably could have squeezed into any other compartment. But, in saying that, the green-eyed boy was the only person to invite me in.

"Don't worry," the dark-haired boy replied. "We all were... well, not really, actually. We all think Molly belongs there."

"Hey!" Molly glared at the dark-haired boy.

"There's nothing wrong with Slytherin," I said, slightly angry. It was typical of the Weasleys to think Slytherin was a bad House.

No one had a response to what I said, but the green-eyed boy spoke again. "So, Dad told us you were called Scorpius Malfoy," he said. "Well, I'm Albus Potter and that –" he jabbed a finger at the dark-haired boy, "– is my brother, James."

I nodded in acknowledgement towards them.

"And I'm Rose," the only red-head said. "Rose Weasley." She smiled at me, a gesture I didn't return. I wasn't going to have them thinking I wanted to be friends with any of them. Mum and Father would kill me.

"And I'm Lucy Weasley."

I'd barely even noticed the other girl there. She hadn't said a word since I had entered. I looked around Rose Weasley to catch a better glimpse at her. She had partially red hair, but it wasn't as obvious as Rose's. It was partly blonde too. And she didn't have as many freckles as Rose, I realised. She was quite pretty, if was being honest, but in a weird way.

"Yeah, that's my sister," Molly interrupted.

I nodded again. "So, you're in second year," I said to Molly, trying to work it out. "And the rest of you are first?"

"No, I'm second year too," James told me. He beamed. "Gryffindor!"

I looked at the other Weasley and Potter first years. "Well, I certainly hope we don't share any classes," I stated bluntly.

Everyone stared at me. They seemed confused. Rose seemed offended.

"That's rude!" she exclaimed.

I didn't respond. I simply sunk back into my chair and dug through my backpack to take out _Hogwarts, A History_. This lot wouldn't care that I left the page open to my father's picture. They probably did it all the time with their own parents.

But as I looked further and further into my pack, a horrible thought began to occur to me. Last night, I had taken the book off its pile with the others. And then Mum had come into my room and I had placed it... on my desk.

I sucked in a breath, receiving a reaction from the others.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Albus asked, his voice colder than it had been moments ago. "Lost your _blankie_?"

I glared at him. This was the reason I didn't want to sit with these people. They thought themselves better than people like me. Just because their names now had absolute respect all over the world, didn't mean they could treat me like I was inferior to them all.

Besides, none of them were even purebloods anymore...

_Stop it, Scorpius!_ I scolded myself. _You're beginning to sound like your parents_.

"No," I said eventually. "For your information, I seem to have misplaced one of my books."

"What book?" Rose questioned.

"_Hogwarts, A History_," I answered, irritated now. That was the only thing worth taking to Hogwarts and I had left the stupid thing at home. How else was I supposed to show my fellow classmates that I was actually worth something; that my family did mean something?

Without saying a word, Rose dug into her own bag and retrieved a copy identical to mine. She handed it to me. "There," she said, seeming to forget about her complaint of me being rude to her two minutes ago. She smiled. "But I want it back at the end of the train ride, okay?"

I took the book and nodded. "Okay," I said. I don't know why I didn't thank her for it. I should have, but I didn't.

Call me a horrible person.

So, I spent the rest of the ride looking through the book, making sure I flipped to the picture of my father every time I saw one of them glancing over to me. Rose seemed the most interested in what I was doing (or maybe she was just making sure I didn't destroy her book) and it became quite irritating, actually.

I tried to ignore her, but it was impossible, and eventually, she spoke to me again. "Why are you ignoring us?" she asked.

She didn't even ask me about the picture. Didn't she even care?

_No, probably not_, I reasoned. She was probably used to seeing people she knew in the papers.

"Because... I just am," I answered. What a dumb response to those people. Now the definitely would think I was stupid.

"It's not very nice, you know." Didn't that girl ever shut up?

I lifted my head up from my book and glared at her. "Yeah, well, I'm not very nice, am I?" I almost spat the words at her and she looked highly affronted by it. I ignored the tiny bit of guilt that seemed to want to creep up to my conscience. None of these people were actually worth my guilt. At least, I didn't think they were.

"Just ignore him, Rosie," Albus cut in. "He's just like every Malfoy, apparently. We should never have invited him into our compartment."

_Our compartment_? It was like he thought he owned it.

The rest of the journey was very unpleasant and I was highly relieved when the train began to slow down into Hogsmeade station. I tried peering out the window to catch a glimpse at the school where I'd be spending the next seven years, but even if it wasn't dark out there, I probably wouldn't have been able to see it.

The others began shuffling around the compartment, gathering their things. I noticed that they all had cages with animals inside them. I watched them enviously. I hadn't been allowed to bring my owl, Hyadum. Not yet, anyway. Mum was sending him with a letter which should have arrived by now. I hope she also remembered to post my book. I needed it.

I was the last to leave the compartment. I closed the Weasley girl's book and stuffed it into my pack. Sitting with them was not something I wanted to share with my parents. If Mum asked me, I'd just tell her I sat with Henry. That would please her.

I shuffled slowly from the train, bumping into other students in the process. It was a tough job trying to get out of there, but eventually, I stepped onto the platform, feeling the cool night air brushing my face. I smiled. Soon, I'd be walking through the doors of the famous school; the same school my parents and grandparents and great-grandparents had attended.

The next thing I knew, there was a mop of red hair in my face. My smile faltered.

"I want my book back now, please," Rose Weasley said. Her tone was demanding, her expression stern. She held out her hand to me.

I was half tempted to refuse her request, but I thought better of it, remembering what Father said. I didn't want to offend these people more than I already had. I retrieved her book from my pack and handed it to her. She took it, but continued to stand there, watching me.

"Er... thanks," I said.

She smiled. "You're very welcome, Scorpius," she said. She then disappeared, returning to join her cousins as all the first years gathered by a giant of a man, calling them all towards him.

I tried not to let the man's size bother me, but it was quite intimidating, and it seemed I wasn't the only one to think so. Others whispered amongst themselves and I heard words such as 'huge' and 'scary' in the mix.

"This way!" his voice boomed. "Follow me!"

We all followed him as the man led us to the Great Lake. I'd read about this in the book. Apparently it was home to a giant squid. I'd seen pictures of its tentacles and I didn't tever want to come across it, even if the book did say it was rather friendly. The idea of something so soft and squishy wrapping around my skin sent shivers up my spine.

Resting peacefully on the Lake were many little boats, and the big man directed us into them. This was when I got my first look at the castle. It was a lot bigger than I had ever imagined it to be and each window glowed as we made our way towards it on the little boats.

I was sharing with two other boys and a girl. I didn't know their names, nor did I ask. They also seemed disinclined to speak to me.

I glanced to my left and saw that the three Weasley and/or Potter children were all sharing. They seemed delighted to be there and a lot more relaxed. But that was easy for them. They had each other and probably twenty-million other cousins or relatives inside the castle.

I had nobody.

Well, there was Lilac and Stefania, but as if they would talk to me. They'd probably ignore me in the common room; probably even deny the fact that we were related.

There was also Henry, but I think I'd prefer to have no friends than become friends with him. Unless, of course, I enjoyed having my head stuffed down the toilet everyday (which I didn't).

I turned to the other three people in my boat. "Hi," I said, "I'm Scorpius."

They looked hesitant to answer me at first, but it was the girl who spoke up. "I'm Jasmine," she said. "Jasmine Finnigan."

I nodded. The name meant nothing to me. Probably a Muggleborn (not that that bothered me, I reminded myself).

The two other boys introduced themselves as Michael Lang and Marvin Hooch. I wished I had established a conversation with them, but I didn't, so we sat in silence for the rest of the journey across the Lake.

Eventually, the boats stopped and one-by-one, we clamoured from the boats and onto dry land, where the entrance doors to the castle awaited us. There were many gasps and whispers of awe and wonder as we were led by the giant man through the doors and into the castle. I walked beside Michael Lang, who seemed to be the only one wanting to get to know me.

We were led through the entrance and up a flight of stairs, where another wizard greeted us. He was kind of funny looking, but I recognised him straight away as Neville Longbottom – or should I say, _Professor_ Longbottom? He seemed absolutely delighted to be standing there before us and he even waved to some of the students – the Weasleys, of course, were some of them.

He then unrolled a scroll and began reading about our Sorting, listing the four Houses and their qualities. I hardly listened; I didn't need to hear what I knew already, as did most of the students here, I noticed by the looks on their faces.

There were only a select few – Michael being one of them – who seemed very interested in what Longbottom had to say.

"So, are you a Muggleborn?" I asked in a whisper.

He seemed startled by my question, but nodded. "Um... I think so," he said. "I still don't understand all those names. My parents don't have magic, you see."

I nodded. "Muggleborn," I declared. Or, _Mudblood_ as Mum would put it. I refused to use that word.

Michael smiled at me. "And you?" he questioned.

"Pureblood," I told him.

It was his turn to nod this time. "Then, you can show me things, can't you?" he asked. "Like how to do magic?"

I shook my head. "I don't know any magic," I told him. It was a slight lie. I knew the basic spells. "That's why we're here. To learn."

He seemed disappointed by this. "Oh."

"But don't worry," I assured him. "There are tons of people here who don't know it yet. And there are heaps of Muggleborns like you too. You'll be fine."

His face seemed to relax after that, and just in time too. Professor Longbottom had just opened the doors to the Great Hall. In a few short moments, we were going to be Sorted.

* * *

_**Thanks so much for your reviews from the prologue! It actually got more response than I anticipated, so yay! Virtual cookies to all of you. Once again, a special thank you to Maya for beta-ing this for me. Much appreciated!**_

_**I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!**_


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Walking into the Great Hall was probably the scariest thing I ever had to do in my life. It was terrifying, daunting. As Professor Longbottom led us in, faces turned to us. A few I recognised, but most I had no clue as to who they were. They were probably people my parents didn't dare associate with.

I looked for the Slytherin table and found it instantly. Most of the people I had known prior to starting Hogwarts were at that table. There was Henry, looking gruff, and staring blankly at the front of the Hall.

Lilac and Stefania were further down the table. They were watching me, which I tried to ignore. Oh, imagine what they would say if I wasn't in Slytherin. Then they'd really be given a reason to disown me.

It wasn't until we reached the front that I realised who was standing beside me. It was that Weasley girl, again. Rose. Her two cousins were in front of us.

"You look nervous," she observed.

I ignored her. She was only making it worse.

"It's okay," she continued, apparently oblivious to my desire to not speak to her. "Everybody gets scared when it comes to this."

"I'm not scared!" I snapped, now highly frustrated with the girl. I hoped that after the Sorting, I would never have to see her again. I hoped that Slytherin didn't share any classes with Gryffindor.

She glared at me. "You're really rude, you know that." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement. "I let you borrow my book, and I'm trying to be nice to you. I –"

"– Do you ever shut up?" I asked harshly.

That seemed to do the trick, because she didn't speak to me again throughout the whole Sorting.

My heart pounded against my chest as students were slowly sent to one of the four tables in the Hall. Geona Appleby was placed in Ravenclaw. Kendrick Creevey in Gryffindor. A set of twins (I can't remember their names) went to Slytherin, then another boy followed them.

I felt a lump in my throat. What if they ran out of places in Slytherin? Only one girl (Isabella Finch-Fletchey) had gone to Hufflepuff. Maybe that would be all they had left.

I waited and waited for my name to be called out. Professor Longbottom went slowly down the list, and I knew I'd be soon. Jasmine Finnigan – the girl I'd met on the boat – was placed in Gryffindor, and a short while later, Marvin Hooch went to Hufflepuff.

Straight after Marvin, came Michael. I held my breath for him. He seemed like a decent enough person, if a little scared. As Professor Longbottom placed the Hat on his head, the Hall fell silent once more.

It took a good few minutes before the Hat finally declared him a Slytherin, which brought a smile to my lips. At least I'd finally have somebody to befriend in a little while.

I nodded to Michael as he walked nervously to the Slytherin table, where Henry Goyle clapped him on the back. The sheer force nearly sent him sprawling to the floor. I shook my head.

In Father's time, it had been unheard of for a Muggleborn to be placed in Slytherin. Now, was different, though. Still, it was still best if Michael didn't reveal the nature of his heritage to too many people. I probably should have warned him about that.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

I bristled at the sound of my name. Already? Wasn't there anybody else between Michael and me? Couldn't I have another few minutes to prepare?

Somebody shoved me forward. It was Weasley. I glared at her. "Thanks," I said, my tone sarcastic.

She returned my glare.

"Malfoy, Scorpius," Professor Longbottom repeated, his eyes darting across the room, trying to find me.

I stepped forward. "Here, sir," I whispered.

The Hall erupted into laughter, which set my face on fire. I was really making a fantastic impression, wasn't I?

Longbottom nodded. "Up here, Mr. Malfoy," he said, indicating to the three-legged stool. I obliged to his request, and he placed the Sorting Hat on my head. Immediately, the room disappeared, and all I could see was the inside of the old hat.

_A Malfoy! _it observed. _I wondered if I'd ever be seeing another one._

I resisted the urge to ask how exactly it could _see_ me, but I held my tongue. That would be a stupid question.

But the Hat seemed to read my mind, anyway. _I see into the minds of every student who enters these walls_, it explained.

"Okay. Well, if you could just Sort me quickly, that would be really nice," I requested. "I don't want to be known as the-one-the-Hat-couldn't-Sort."

If it was possible, the Sorting Hat chuckled. _An impatient one_, it said. _Well, you definitely wouldn't fare well in Hufflepuff, then. Intelligent, yes, though Ravenclaw will not accept you. Brave... not really._

I scowled. I was brave.

_That only leaves one House left, Mr. Malfoy_, the Hat continued. "SLYTHERIN!"

I couldn't even begin to explain the relief I felt when the Hat called that name. In my excitement, I ripped the Hat from my head, and ran down to the Slytherin table, sliding in between Michael and one of the twins.

"Hey, Malfoy!" Henry said. "You look happy."

I didn't respond. Henry was the only downside to being in Slytherin House, but I guess I'd survive that minor setback. My parents would be pleased.

I looked around Michael to catch a glimpse at my cousins. Lilac gave me a brief smile, but Stefania completely ignored me. I rolled my eyes. They were stuck with me, now. They'd have to talk to me eventually.

I paid little attention to the rest of the Sorting after that. The only time I turned back to the front was when Professor Longbottom reached the Weasleys. I had thought only a few hours ago that they'd all be in Gryffindor, but now I wasn't so sure. After meeting the Slytherin one, they could be anywhere.

Albus was first. He also looked rather nervous as the Hat was placed on his head, which pleased me. Not even Harry Potter's son could be excused from feeling scared.

His Sorting took longer than I anticipated, but he soon joined his brother at the Gryffindor table. Five Sortings later, and Lucy was being called to the front. She was a shy, timid girl (nothing like her sister), so I thought it fitting that she went to Hufflepuff.

Next was Rose.

I don't know why, but she was the one who interested me the most. Most likely because she was the one who irritated me the most, I decided. She didn't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. She also seemed more nervous than her two cousins combined, which brought a smile to my lips. _Good_, I thought. _Serves her right_.

I didn't know what Rose was doing. She seemed to be having a conversation with the Hat. I sighed. I didn't know her all that well, but in the little time that I had known her, it wouldn't have surprised me if she tried to do her own Sorting. No doubt she was giving the Sorting Hat all the pros and cons of each House, making sure she was in the right one.

Finally – after the Hall had begun to get restless – the Hat declared her a Gryffindor. Everyone applauded, me especially. At least I wouldn't have to meet any of the Weasleys or Potters in the common room, or sit with them at the table for meals. Well, all except Molly. But if she was in Slytherin, then surely she didn't have to be that bad.

The headmistress then welcomed all the new first years to Hogwarts. Father had told me about the headmistress. She had been his teacher, and used to be the head of Gryffindor House before she became headmistress. Father said she was stern, but fair, so I supposed that meant she was okay. I hoped so, anyway. I didn't want to get on the bad side of any of my teachers.

After she had given her welcome, the feast began. I had read about these feasts in my book, but I'd never imagined they would be this big. Michael gasped beside me. But maybe he was more surprised about the fact that it appeared in front of us suddenly. If he was a Muggleborn, then that was probably the first bit of magic he'd seen.

I smiled at him. "It's cool, isn't it?" I asked.

He nodded, still staring open-mouthed at all the delicious food that lay before us. "We can eat this?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, look." I looked around the Hall. We were one of the last ones to start on the food.

"Awesome!" Michael exclaimed, before helping himself to roast beef.

I took some too, as well as potatoes and other vegetables. I was used to meals cooked by house elves, but Trixie had obviously never needed to cook this much food. My parents threw dinner parties every once in a while, but again, there was only ever a maximum of about ten people at any one time.

My mother and father didn't have that many friends, to be honest, and the ones they did have, they didn't like all that much. Mum once told me that prejudices run deep. I think that's what she must have meant.

We spent the next little while eating, meeting one another, and talking. I discovered that the twin I was sitting beside – Evan – had never expected himself to be in Slytherin, nor had his sister, Millicent. They had a family of Ravenclaws.

They seemed to know who I was, of course, but they didn't cringe at the name, so I decided I liked them after that.

In fact, most of the Slytherin first years were alright. Mum probably wouldn't like it once I told her the first person I befriended was Muggleborn, but I'd just tell her to get over it. Who I was friends with was none of her business.

After the dessert had disappeared and the plates returned, cleaned, and looking brand new, Professor McGonagall (the headmistress) wished us all good luck for a new year, and then instructed us to go to bed.

The Slytherin common room was in the dungeons, I knew that. What I didn't know, however, was where the dungeons were. Thankfully, a Prefect was instructing us to follow him.

We left the Great Hall in a small huddle, all of us probably as frightened as the other, though no one wanted to show it. That was how I felt, anyway. Michael seemed to just be excited, while Evan and Millie trailed.

"Hey, Malfoy!"

I turned around, trying to locate the source of the voice. It was Molly Weasley, wandering past with two other Slytherin girls. They giggled as I stared at her, more in wonder than anything else.

"Where are you going?" I asked stupidly. Well, of course she was going to the common room too.

The girls giggled again.

"First years," one of them groaned. I glared at her.

"Second years," I retorted.

Molly laughed, nudging her friend. "I told you," she said. The three of them then disappeared, their giggles echoing through the silent corridor the Prefect had just led as through.

Eventually, we reached a wall. It was plain, and boring, but I was sure it was the entrance to the common room. Father had said something like that.

"Slytherin Salazar," the Prefect said. The doors opened to reveal a large, circular room. There were people running around in all directions, others pushing and shoving. I saw Molly Weasley again, with her friends. They were lounging in some armchairs, and part of me wanted to join them – after all, she was somebody I knew – but I didn't. I had Michael, and the twins were also there. I'd be fine.

"Girls' dormitories are through the left passage," the Prefect explained once we had all filed inside the large room. He pointed to an archway beside a tapestry of the time Hogwarts had been newly built. "Boys, through the other one." He indicated right. There was no tapestry next to that archway, just an ugly-looking statue of Salazar.

After that, the Prefect abandoned his duties, and left us to our own devices. Some of the first years I hadn't had the chance to talk to at dinner parted. But me, Michael, and the twins all stood there, looking around.

"Do we go to bed now?" Michael asked, clearly uncertain.

I shrugged. I had no idea either.

"We have to start early tomorrow," Evan reasoned.

"So maybe it's best we do go to bed," Millie added. "I better get to know some of the other girls. I'll be sharing a room with them, after all." She left us after that, heading through the left archway.

Evan left soon after, leaving just me and Michael.

"Wanna go bed?" I asked.

But Michael wasn't paying attention. He was staring wide-eyed at a group of students playing a game of Exploding Snap.

"What is _that_?" he asked in wonder.

"Exploding Snap," I told him. I then went on the explain what that game involved, which he seemed highly interested in. "I'll teach you one day," I promised. "It's fun." Not that I was allowed to play it all that often. I hadn't played it since my cousins turned eleven. After that, it apparently became too uncool to play with somebody younger than them.

I sighed.

"What's the matter?" Michael questioned.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "I was just thinking how I'd love to play that game again. Lilac and Stefania stopped playing with me years ago."

"Who?"

Sometimes it was really hard to meet new people, I decided, especially those who knew nothing of my family. Most people knew that Lilac and Stefania Zabini were related to the Malfoys. Our mothers were sisters.

I located my cousins in the slowly thinning cluster. "My cousins," I said, pointing to them. "Though, they'd rather deny that fact."

"They look older," Michael observed.

I nodded. "They are," I said. "Lilac is a third year, and Stefania is a fourth. They don't like me very much, so probably don't talk to them."

Michael nodded. "Okay."

I didn't know what else to say after that, so I decided that it probably was best if we did go to bed. After all, it wouldn't look so good if I turned up late to my first class.

"When do you think we'll know what classes we have?" Michael asked me as we made our way to the dormitory. It was the third one along, which was easy enough to find. Evan was already in there, unpacking. There were two other boys as well. They hardly glanced at us as we answered.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Those are your beds," Evan explained, pointing to two beds in the corner.

I nodded, and Michael and I each chose one. I then saw my trunk in the centre, with my owl resting on top. I smiled as I went over to him. "Do you have a letter for me?" I asked.

The owl stuck its leg out. It was a big letter. How much did Mum really need to write in a matter of hours?

I took the letter, disappointed that it didn't feel like a book was in there. I'd actually have to reply to her now, requesting that she send it to me.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_How has your first night been, dear? I bet you were scared, yet excited? Your father and I are assuming that you got into Slytherin, but he has reminded me to tell you that it doesn't matter what House you are in. I am sure you will do well in any of them. The Sorting Hat was very close to declaring me a Ravenclaw, so if you got in there, too, I'd be delighted._

_Please inform me of how your first day went, too. I'd love to hear about it. And have you made any friends yet? I'm sure Henry will be willing to take you under his belt if you find yourself lonely. He's a nice boy, Henry. He likes you, Scorp._

I sighed. Mum would just never understand the true Henry. Of course she was going to think that about him. Henry was nothing but polite to my parents.

_Anyway, I don't have much else to say to you right now, except have fun. Please reply soon, we're looking forward to hearing from you._

_Much love,_

_Your Mother._

I folded the letter up and stuffed it into my trunk. I'd reply tomorrow when I requested my book.

Michael was watching me. "Do you think my parents will be able to send post through the normal way?" he asked me. "I mean, I'm not sure they'd feel comfortable using an owl."

I was about to ask him what he meant by the _normal way_, but then realised he meant the Muggle way. I shrugged. "Maybe," I said.

"I hope so."

We climbed into bed after that. Evan had already fallen asleep, and the other two boys were in bed, too.

"Well, good night," I said to Michael.

"Yeah, 'night," Michael replied. "Oh, and thanks for helping me today. You were a great help."

"No problem," I answered. "It's good to have a friend." Michael was my friend. That thought cheered me up greatly.

I fell asleep then. I don't remember falling asleep, but I did. It was actually the quickest I'd ever fallen asleep, I think. I couldn't wait to start the next day.

OOO

The next morning was a much better start than the previous one. Rather than waking up feeling nervous, I woke up feeling happy. I had finally made it to Hogwarts! I was a Hogwarts student!

I was out of my dark, cold house, and away from my parents. That thought probably shouldn't have cheered me up nearly as much as it did, but it was hard living in a big house with only three other adults, and one house-elf for company.

What wasn't there to be happy about?

I was the first to wake that morning (I was used to getting up at ridiculous times). In the bed beside me, Michael was snoring softly. The other boys were silent, but I knew they were also asleep. I had no idea what time it was, but it must have been incredibly early, because it was still dark when I looked out the window.

I sighed. It was like home all over again.

While the others slept, I dressed, and made my way from the common room to the Great Hall for breakfast. What a silent walk it was. I passed two Ravenclaws along the way – fifth years, I guessed – but other than that, it was just me. There hadn't even been a living soul in the common room when I had left it. Did people not realise we had classes in a few hours?

There were a few more people in the Great Hall, but still not many. Not even all the teachers were there. I saw Professor McGonagall nibbling away at a few pieces of toast, and the large man, who I had learnt was called Hagrid. There were two other teachers I didn't know, and that was it.

Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – I wasn't alone at the Slytherin table. Molly Weasley and her giggling-girl-friends were there also. A bit further along sat Henry Goyle and his cronies. I avoided them, and sidled in beside the Weasley girl. I'd rather I ruined what little reputation I had, than give everybody the impression I was friends with Henry.

Molly smiled at me. "Good morning," she said.

"Morning," I mumbled in response.

The girl continued to smile, sliding a plate of toast towards me. "Eat up," she instructed. "First day is always the worst. You never know where you're going, what you're doing…."

I looked up and stared into the girl's brown eyes. How un-Weasleyish she was, I observed. "How do we know what classes we are in?" I asked.

Molly's two friends burst into a fit of giggles. I felt my face burn.

Even Molly was trying to hold back a laugh, which irritated me. I thought she might have been different.

"The Heads of Houses bring around the timetables," she explained.

"Oh, okay," I responded. For the rest of breakfast, I spoke to no one. I didn't want anybody else laughing at me.

When I had finished eating, I returned to my dormitory, where my four roommates were now up and about. They were all in their school robes, and because I wasn't, their attention was turned to me.

"Planning on ditching the first day?" Michael teased, eyeing me up and down. I noticed the moment of uncertainty on his face after that – was he supposed to be dressed, or not?

I shook my head. "No, I just prefer to eat in normal clothes," I lied. The truth was, I hadn't even thought about it.

Making it look as if I had planned it all along, I went to my trunk and dug through it until I pulled out some robes. With it toppled a book onto the floor. I let out a cry of surprise.

"What is it?" Michael questioned, hurrying over to me.

"N-nothing," I stammered, staring blankly at the cover. Attached, was a message in my mother's handwriting. _You almost forgot it, Scorp_.

Last night I had been too exhausted to do anything, let alone search my trunk to see if the book might have been in there. A lump formed in my throat. I had never realised how important it was to me until I was holding it in that moment.

I'd never forget it again.

I placed the book back inside, and got dressed, before following the other boys back into the Great Hall to get my timetable. I groaned when I read it.

Three of my subjects were with Gryffindors. That would mean I'd have to endure more of Albus Potter and the Weasley girl who had leant me her book. In that very moment, her name had completely slipped my mind.

First up was Potions… with Gryffindor.

I was in a fairly sour mood as we made our way to the dungeons at nine o'clock. The only reason I knew where I was going was that the Slytherin common room was in the same direction. I smirked, though, when I saw Albus Potter looking around, lost.

A part of me said I should have stopped and directed him, but there was a bigger part of me that wanted him to suffer. And I listened to that part, and continued walking with Michael and Evan.

We had just found a seat at the back of the classroom, when Potter and Weasley entered. Albus looked rather flustered, but his cousin – Rose, that was her name, I remembered – was looking rather calm.

No doubt she had drawn a map of the castle or something.

I had assumed that the two cousins would sit together, but it appeared Albus had made some friends overnight, and without a second glance, he sat with them.

I saw the hurt on Rose's face as she was left standing in the middle of the classroom, looking for a seat. A few Gryffindor girls offered her a seat beside them, but she seemed to only notice the one beside me.

Her eyes lit up.

I pushed my bag over the desk.

"Can I sit there?" she asked politely.

I frowned. Had she really not noticed the five other empty seats around, or was she too stupid to realise?

"Sure."

I turned to Michael, glaring at him. Typical Muggleborn, he had no idea about the Weasleys, the Potters, or what it was like for Slytherins and Gryffindors to be friends.

Rose smiled, and pushed my bag aside as she slid in beside me. "Thanks," she said.

Leaning across me, Michael introduced himself, which she returned cheerfully. The two continued to chat over me, until Professor Slughorn waddled into the classroom. He was an old-looking man, with glasses and no hair. Father had told me about him, too. Apparently students used to walk all over him.

"Good morning, class!" he said, squinting around the room. "I hope you all enjoyed your first night in the castle."

There was a quiet murmur of yeses, and then Slughorn got straight into his lesson.

Father had done rather well at this subject, but as the professor droned on about different uses for different things (I didn't take any of it in), I realised that I wasn't going to have the same success.

I think I even started to doze off (a good start to my first day), until I received a nudge in my ribs. I jumped – almost out of my seat – and then glared at the culprit. Rose Weasley was staring pointedly at me, not looking at all pleased that I hadn't paid attention.

"What?" I asked, a little more harshly than I intended. Maybe she deserved it, though. My ribs still ached.

"Professor Slughorn said we have to make a potion in pairs," she explained.

I scowled. "What makes you think I want to be with you?" I snapped.

Like on the train, I saw her expression of surprise and disgrace. I didn't expect any of the Weasleys to consider anything I said to them rude, but apparently, she did.

But rather than saying anything, she slid a piece of parchment in front of me. "This is the equipment we need," she explained. "You go and collect that, and I'll get the ingredients… I'm not convinced you know what you're getting."

She was right, of course, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that. "My father was one of Hogwarts best Potions students, for your information," I said.

Her eyes narrowed. "My dad said that my mum beat him all the time."

I scowled again. So, now they talked about my family?

"Come on, we're going to get too far behind if we sit here any longer," Rose continued. She got to her feet. "There's only three things you need to get. That shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

If anybody else had said that to me, I would have thought they were mocking me, but I really think Rose was questioning me on that. She didn't strike me as the type of person to mock somebody.

"No, it's not," I mumbled, also getting up from my seat. I had barely taken in a word of what Slughorn had said, so I followed some of the other students to the back of the room. They each picked up a set of scales and a knife.

I looked around. Hadn't Rose said three pieces of equipment?

"Scorpius!"

I spun around. Rose was back at the table, hands on hips and glaring at me. "I'm looking for the third thing!" I snapped at her. She was so damn annoying!

"It's a cauldron," she replied, walking over to me and dragging me back to our seats. Her grip was strong, and I almost wrenched my hand away from her. How dare that Weasley girl touch me! But, anyone watching would probably think she was hurting me, and I definitely didn't want to give her the satisfaction of thinking that.

"I assume you don't have your cauldron?" she continued as she opened up her potions book and began organising all the ingredients she had collected.

"No," I mumbled, looking down at my hands. "I hadn't been aware we'd be making anything today."

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Just because she was so prepared didn't mean everybody else had to be.

I glanced around the room. There were two girls in the corner also looking a bit lost. So, I wasn't the only one who had forgotten my cauldron.

Rose placed the book in between us. "You do the chopping, I'll do the mixing," she instructed.

"Why can't I do the mixing?" I retorted. _Bossy-boots_.

"Because you'll probably mess it up." Her response was so blunt, I didn't even have time to be offended. I really didn't think she was trying to be mean, anyway. I think she just liked to speak whatever was on her mind.

I just glared at her, while she got to work. I looked at the first instruction. _Wormwood_. What the hell was _wormwood_?

Rose placed the ingredient in front of me. "It has to be chopped up into fine pieces," she explained. "_Really_ fine."

I stared at her, but this time in wonder. Hadn't she only been at Hogwarts for as long as me? "How do you know all this?" I asked, rather bewildered.

She pointed to a line in the book. "It says so."

I sighed. Next time, I'd make sure to pick a seat that already had somebody sitting on the other side. Being alone with Henry seemed more enjoyable than I expected this lesson was going to be.

Maybe I should've just let her do the whole thing. Maybe then, Slughorn would have been more impressed.

Or maybe, there shouldn't have been so many strict rules to make a stupid potion. How was I supposed to know that the cinnamon had to be grounded _really_ finely? And how did I know that one little mishap would cause so much destruction?

Looking less than impressed at our exploded cauldron after the cinnamon incident, Slughorn moved on, muttering something about _definitely not possessing your mother's talent_, and scribbling something onto his notes.

Rose seemed devastated. "I need a new cauldron now," she sniffed.

I stared at her. "So?"

"_So?_ So, that cost a lot of money. My parents aren't going to be happy."

I bit my lip. It kind of had been my fault that her cauldron was now in pieces. I hadn't read the instructions clearly enough.

"Have mine," I said, speaking before I knew what I was saying.

Her eyes widened as she turned to me. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was my fault," I said. "Er… sorry about that."

She beamed. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed. "But… won't you need one?"

I shrugged. "I'll just ask my father to get me a new one. It's not a big deal."

From the look on her face, I gathered that she didn't believe me, but then again, she didn't know me. The Malfoys had always been one of the wealthier families in the wizarding world, and the Weasleys had not. Despite our reversed statuses in society these days, the Malfoys had managed to keep most of their fortune. Some of it had gone to my grandfather's trial, and eventual sentence to Azkaban. More of it had gone to the Ministry that Grandma Malfoy had been forced to pay.

Apparently to keep her and Father out of Azkaban, the Ministry had demanded quite a large payment to help restore Hogwarts. Grandma Malfoy often spoke of that, but she told me she had willingly paid the price for it. She hadn't been able to keep her husband out of prison, but she was going to do everything she could to keep her son out of there.

I think that was a fair enough call. I mean, if she hadn't, maybe I wouldn't have been born.

We packed up everything really quickly, Rose shooting deathly glares at her cousin, who was sniggering at her failed potion.

"It's not like you did any better!" she snapped at him. I raised my eyebrow. Really? It was just a potion. It wasn't that big a deal.

"At least I didn't explode my cauldron," Albus chided. "I thought you were supposed to be all smart, and everything."

Rose was fuming now, and it was actually quite frightening.

Albus chuckled. "You're so funny, Rosie," he teased. "Come on, we have Transfiguration next. We don't want to be late to that." He pulled on Rose's arm, heeding me no attention.

I watched after them.

"They don't really look like friends," Michael commented, also watching Albus and Weasley exit the dungeons. "Do you think he likes her?"

I turned to my new friend, shaking my head. He had a lot to learn about the wizarding world. Only a Muggleborn wouldn't know who the Weasleys and Potters were.

"They're cousins," I told him, as we also made our way to Transfiguration. "And I don't think the Weasley girl likes to fail," I added.

Michael laughed.

"What?"

"Well… that potion _was_ a bit of a fail," he said. "But, everyone's was, so don't worry."

I shrugged. "My mum will like to hear about this," I said to him. "She doesn't like them all that much."

Michael gave me a questioning look, but I just shook my head. "Never mind," I told him. "You'll soon hear about the Weasleys. They're really famous."

Michael's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"How so? Like… Hollywood famous?"

"_What_ famous?"

"You know, the really famous actors who live in Hollywood," Michael answered. He frowned when it was apparent I had no idea what he was talking about. "You've never heard of Hollywood?"

I shook my head. "Is that a Muggle thing?" I asked him.

He hesitated, and then nodded, just as we entered the new classroom. This time, Rose had a seat with Albus. "Yeah."

"Then, no, I haven't heard of it."

"You haven't ever seen a movie?" Michael continued, seeming utterly perplexed that I had no idea what he was talking about. "Never played a video game?"

I shook my head again, having no idea what he was talking about. "I still need to teach you Exploding Snap," I said. "After this class?"

Michael nodded. "Okay. And I need to teach you what a video game is."

I nodded this time, just to keep him happy. That sounded dangerous. And I wasn't exactly one to put my life in danger for a stupid Muggle game. If that didn't kill me, then my parents would.

* * *

_**I hope you liked, and don't forget, your reviews encourage writing :)**_

_**Thanks again to Maya for beta-ing. This would be a whole big mess without her help :)**_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The first few weeks at Hogwarts went quite smoothly despite a few mishaps here and there. By the end of the first week, Michael and I had really established a strong friendship. It was strange having an actual friend, and not somebody my parents thought I might like.

I told my parents about Michael, though I did leave the part about him being a Muggleborn out. I know they tried to stay neutral to such things, but at the same time I knew they probably wouldn't welcome Michael like they would a pureblood friend.

Not that it really mattered all that much to me. I didn't really care what my parents thought. Michael was nice, and that was all that counted, wasn't it?

It seemed that Molly Weasley had also taken an interest in us. It was a bit strange, but she took to showing us around when we were lost, and sitting with us in the common room. At times, I caught her staring at me with great interest, which embarrassed me. I didn't like the way she stared at me. It made me feel really uncomfortable.

Michael suggested with humour one day that she might like me. I laughed her off. He really had a lot to learn about the relationship between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. I reasoned that even though Molly seemed different, maybe that was all a ploy to find out more about me. It wouldn't have surprised me if one of her parents had instructed her to find out more about me, so they could use it against Father. Maybe that was why Rose constantly pestered me in every Potions lesson. Apparently being partners in the very first lesson gave her the impression that I would want to work with her every lesson.

It actually wasn't too bad, and despite our first lesson disaster, Professor Slughorn considered both of us really talented.

It was all Rose, of course. I'd learnt my lesson the first time: she was to do all the hard work and I was simply to hand her the ingredients when she asked for them. Michael called it me being lazy; I preferred to think of it as being more proficient. Last time I'd added an ingredient, I had to give my good cauldron to Rose.

My parents had been less than pleased when I wrote to them and told them I needed a new one when I hadn't even been there for twenty-four hours. I think it was the fact that I had given my one to a Weasley that irritated them more than anything, but a few days later I received a new one anyway.

It was about a month before Christmas that our Head of House – Professor Slughorn as a matter of fact – gathered all of the Slytherins together to speak to us. It seemed to be only the first years who were confused, because as I sat in one of the black armchairs with Michael, I saw Molly and her friends watching me with great anticipation.

Despite myself, I blushed. Why did she have to look at me like that?

"Are we all here?" Slughorn questioned, looking around the room at the very large number of students. Slytherin had to have the most students, surely? I hadn't seen this many people at the Gryffindor table.

There were a few murmurs of _yeses_ and _I think so's_, so Slughorn continued, "How lovely it is to have so many this year!" he said cheerfully. "I hope you have all settled in nicely?"

Everyone nodded.

"Excellent! Well, it's that time of year again, boys and girls… that time for the Christmas Ball."

I gaped at the professor. What had he just said? Christmas Ball? I raised my hand.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Slughorn said.

"Sir… I thought this Christmas Ball thing… I thought it was only when a Triwizard Tournament thing was here…?" That was what my father had said when I found pictures of him and an ugly-looking girl in dress robes.

Slughorn chuckled. "Mr. Malfoy, you are thinking of the Yule Ball," he explained, "which is indeed, held on Christmas Eve, as is the Christmas Ball. And, the Ball was inspired by the Yule Ball. It was, in fact, established by Professor Longbottom, who thought all students would enjoy a dance every year, not just on a special occasion."

Well, Professor Longbottom had thought wrong, and by the groans coming from Michael and Evan, they seemed to agree with me.

Slughorn laughed again. "Do not fear, boys, it is a ball for second years and above. First years are only allowed to attend if they are asked by somebody older than them."

Well, that was a relief at least. I didn't know anybody in any above years, so at least I didn't have to attend.

There was plenty of chatter after Slughorn departed. Everyone seemed actually quite excited about the prospect of the Christmas Ball. I was about to head down to the Great Hall for dinner, when a hand on my arm stopped me. I spun around, only to see the face of Molly Weasley staring back at me. Her girlfriends stood slightly back, suppressing giggles.

"You can come to the Ball with me," she said.

My eyes widened. "What?"

"You can come to the Ball with me," Molly repeated. "It'll be fun."

"And she's been dying to ask you for ages now!" one of Molly's friends added, moving quickly so Molly didn't hit her.

I blushed scarlet. "Er… thanks for the offer, Molly," I said, "but a ball isn't really my thing."

Molly looked disappointed. "Oh, okay," she said. "Well… maybe next year then?"

"Um… maybe," I said. "Anyway, I'm going to have dinner now, so I'll… um… see you later." I'd never left the common room so quickly before. I was halfway up to the ground floor before Michael or Evan caught up to me.

Michael didn't say anything (he seemed just as shocked as I was) but Evan was looking thoroughly amused at what had just unfolded. I glared at him.

"Don't say anything," I warned. "Just don't."

Evan shook his head. "I wasn't going to," he said. "But… well… it wouldn't matter anymore, anyway."

Just before we reached the Great Hall, I stopped and faced Evan. "What do you mean?" I asked sharply. "Do you know what the people would say if they found out a _Weasley_ had asked me to the Ball? It's humiliating enough being asked by any girl, but it's ten times worse when she has Weasley in her name!" I couldn't shake the embarrassment I felt over what had just happened.

I knew she had been watching me for weeks, but I'd had no idea that was the reason Molly had been so interested in me. Had she really been planning this all along? I'd just turned twelve a few weeks ago! I was _not_ interested in girls! Not at all!

"What do you have against the Weasleys, anyway?" Michael questioned. "I mean… they all seem nice enough."

I turned to Michael now, glaring at him too. There were others coming in for dinner, and they were all giving us a wide berth. "They're foul people. They all think they're so much better than everybody else, and they look down on everybody else, just because they're all famous and their parents are all popular with the Minister and that. Did you know that my father and Harry Potter hated each other at school? Harry Potter almost killed Father, once."

Michael gaped at me. "R-really?" he questioned. The news obviously came as quite a shock to him – as it did Evan too. The two of them stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at me.

I nodded, fuming now, though I wasn't really sure why I was so angry. I'd said no to the Weasley girl. It should have been over and done with.

"That's kind of scary," Evan said. "I didn't think Harry Potter would kill anybody… well, you know, except Voldemort, of course."

"Don't say that name!" I spat.

"You're not scared of it, are you?" Evan questioned.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not _scared_ of it!" I said. "The name's forbidden in my house, and I'd appreciate if you didn't use it in front of me."

On the rare occasion that that topic would come up at home, Mum or Father, or Grandma Malfoy would refer to him as the Dark Lord. That was the name my grandfather had used when he was his follower, and it had kind of just stuck.

I preferred not to use anything, but Dark Lord sounded better than Voldemort, even if it did hold more respect than he ever deserved. The Dark Lord destroyed my parents' and grandparents' lives. I had absolutely no respect for him; dead or alive.

Michael shuffled uncomfortably in front of me, which made me realise he had something else to say to me. "What is it?" I snapped.

Michael bit his lip, refusing to look me in the eye. "Well… after you left… well Evan and I… the Ball kind of sounds fun, doesn't it?"

I didn't think fun was the operative word, but I remained silent, allowing Michael to explain.

"Well, after you left… Evan suggested that me and him go to the Ball with Molly and one of her friends…."

I stared at the pair of them, before eventually sighing. "Alright," I said, not finding the energy to argue with them any longer. What was the point, anyway? If they wanted to go, who was I to stop them?

"So, you're not mad?" Michael questioned.

"Why would I be mad?" I asked. "I said no to Molly… I don't even like her all that much."

Both of my friends beamed.

"Great!" Evan said. "But… are you sure you don't want to come? I mean, Molly does have another friend… but she might be really mad at you if you do."

I shook my head. "No, I don't want to go to a stupid ball and dance with girls," I said.

"Everyone's going, though!" Michael said. "Oh, Mum and Dad will be so excited when I tell them."

I shook my head again, but this time in disbelief. I'd never met two _boys_ so excited to go to a dance. Father had told me that most of the boys for the Yule Ball had resented ever going.

"Ahem."

I jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of a fourth person. And to make everything worse, it was the headmistress. Her eyes were stern, but she wore a half amused expression as she looked down at the three of us.

"Are you boys going to go in for dinner, or are you all happy standing out here, gossiping like a bunch of school girls?"

I blushed. I was sick of girls today! I didn't want to hear that word ever again!

"Sorry, Professor!" Michael mumbled, hurrying past, and into the Hall. Evan and I followed.

It wasn't until we were making our way to the Slytherin table that the all too familiar whiny voice of Rose Weasley distracted me. I stopped and directed my attention to the Gryffindors. Rose was on her feet, standing by the elder Potter, James or something. It seemed she was on a mission and wasn't going to stop until she got what she wanted.

James just looked outright furious and it was obvious he had better things to do than to listen to his cousin whinge.

"_Please!_" Rose begged.

"No," James replied in a tone that sounded like they'd been having this conversation for some time now.

"Why not?" Rose asked. "It's not like you have anybody else to go with, anyway."

"And I'd rather go alone than take my cousin to a stupid ball!" James said.

"But if you don't take me, then who will?"

I wanted to jump in and inform her that no one in their right mind would want to go with her, but I held my tongue. There was a time for insults, and this wasn't one of them.

"You'll just have to wait until next year, Rosie," James answered in a much kinder tone than I would have used. "Most first years do."

"But that's not fair!" Rose whined.

"Rosie, when Hugo starts, would you want to take him if he asked you to?" That was Albus.

Rose shot him a reproachful look, before finally giving in. "Fine," she sighed. "I'll just have to wait then." By the sounds of things, this was not at all what she wanted.

I smirked. Well, that was something at least. That was two Weasleys who hadn't gotten their way in the space of ten minutes.

What a lovely day this had turned out to be!

As Rose returned to her food, I made my way to the Slytherin table, unable to wipe the smirk off my face. Michael noticed.

"If only first years could go by themselves," he said. "You could take her, Scorpius."

"W-what?" I cried, horrified at the idea. "… what?"

Michael shrugged. "Well, you're dateless, she's dateless… but neither of you are allowed to go, so it doesn't matter anyway. Maybe next year." He shrugged again, as we sat down at an empty space.

"I'd gouge my eyes out before I attended a ball with her," I stated firmly. "And I'd go with Molly before I went with that whiny Gryffindor."

"She's really not that bad," Michael continued, helping himself to some meat and vegetables. "I mean, she gets you good marks in Potions, doesn't she? Slughorn thinks you're a genius, when we all know she does the work."

"And those lessons are the worst," I told him. "She's too bossy. Anyway, let's not talk about that anymore. We have better things to discuss." Before Michael could argue, I began discussing Quidditch. Slytherin played their first game on the weekend; it was against Ravenclaw.

First years weren't allowed on the team, but I had taken Michael down to the Quidditch pitch for the tryouts just to have a look. He'd been quite impressed by the sport. He said he thought it was amazing that we could play on brooms.

I told him we could try out next year. I was a Seeker, like my father, but I thought Michael had a Chaser's build. He was pretty quick, too, so I hoped we could make the team next year. I've known how to fly since I was three.

OOO

The weeks went on after that. We were bombarded with homework and essays to write, giving us little to no spare time. I found myself up to midnight or later almost every night trying to get everything finished.

One such night was a week before Christmas. The next day was the final day before the break and all the teachers thought it would be fun to test us on everything we'd learnt the next day.

I was the only one up save a few seventh years, and I hardly noticed when a figure sat opposite me. It wasn't until she spoke that I even bothered to look up at her.

"Listen, Malfoy," Molly Weasley said. "I know you turned me down, and said you didn't want to go to the Ball, but things are kind of desperate now."

I stared at the brunette girl blankly. "But, aren't you going with Michael?" I questioned.

She appeared not to have heard me. "My friend Isadora, she's dateless, and if she can't find anybody, then she can't go."

"You can go without a date, can't you?" I said, resisting the urge to laugh. Surely there was no rule that everybody had to have a date. Molly was _thirteen_ for goodness sake. Surely that stuff wasn't important to her.

But apparently it was, because she stared at me, horrified, as if what I had just said was a crime.

"Of course she has to have a date!" Molly cried. "Everybody will laugh at her if she doesn't. And, besides – and don't breathe a word to anyone – the person she asked knocked her back. All the other good ones are taken, and she doesn't want to show up with someone like my cousin, James, so you're all that's left."

"You're so flattering," I replied sarcastically. "Listen, Molly, do you know who I am?"

She frowned. "Er… yes."

I nodded. "I'm a Malfoy, you're a Weasley. I don't even know why we're talking to one another. I was taught not to like you."

"And I, you," Molly replied harshly. "But, do you really listen to everything your parents tell you?"

I blushed. I did, actually. Well, most things; I disagreed with them about the importance of blood status.

"You're nice enough, Scorpius, and I know you knocked me back, but can you at least take Isadora? She's really desperate, but she didn't want to ask you. All you have to do is dance with her. It's really not that bad."

I sighed, staring down at the parchment that was supposed to contain more words than it actually did. "Fine," I said. "I'll take her." I actually didn't know which one Isadora was. Was she the blonde one, or the brunette? Molly had new friends every day, so I could have been thinking of someone entirely different.

Molly beamed at me. "Fantastic!" she said. "Oh, she'll be so happy. She was starting to worry. Thank you!"

I shrugged. I had never planned on going, but if Michael and Evan were, I guess going with them wasn't so bad.

And, I could rub it in Rose's face that I was going and she wasn't. Apparently she used me as her venting ground in Potions over the fact that all her cousins had a date except her.

She was going to be thrilled when I told her I could no longer study with her in the library the night before Christmas (not that I had agreed to it, anyway. She'd just assumed that was how I wanted to spend my Christmas Eve).

Molly made to leave.

"Oh, by the way," I called her back. "It's a good thing I wasn't going home for Christmas," I added. "You know… like most people do."

Molly laughed. "Actually, not since the Ball was introduced five years ago," she said matter-of-factly. "See, this is why you must go. _Everybody_ goes."

And with that, she left for the girls' dormitories.

OOO

The week couldn't have gone slowly enough. One moment I was relaxing in the common room, free of homework for a few weeks, and the next my mother was sending me dress robes for the Christmas Ball the next day.

I scowled when I opened the package, staring at the hideous things.

Actually, no, they weren't all that hideous; I just resented the fact that I – at eleven – had to wear something so formal.

My parents didn't even make me dress up that much for their dinner parties. Mum had even relented, and allowed me to dress myself this past year.

Michael gaped at the things. "Is that what you're wearing?" he asked me.

I nodded. "What are you wearing?"

Michael hesitated, before rummaging through his trunk until he finally extracted some odd-looking pants and a top.

I raised my eyebrow. "They're Muggle clothes," I observed.

"Are they okay?" he asked me. "I thought…."

"I'm sure they're fine," I told him, knowing fairly well that no one else would be wearing something so strange. I didn't want to worry Michael – he was the only reason I was going in the first place. If he wasn't, I would have refused Isadora.

Isadora… what an interesting character she was. After agreeing to go with her, Molly had introduced us, but it hadn't been the most pleasant of introductions. She had blushed the whole time and barely spoke a word to me. I tried to talk, but she simply would not respond, so I couldn't imagine tonight was going to be all that enjoyable.

Michael had joked that I must have had some kind of spell on me because girls were drawn to me and always went shy around me. I disagreed strongly. They probably saw me as some pathetic first year who they could use to get to the Ball.

After all, Rose Weasley didn't blush around me. She simply bossed me around.

We got dressed quickly and then waited for Evan and Caton (another boy in our dormitory) to prepare themselves.

Slowly – and regrettably – we made our way into the common room. All of our dates (it was convenient, I suppose, that they were all Slytherins) waited for us.

The moment she saw Michael, Molly was all over him, which embarrassed him greatly. I had to approach Isadora, who stood back and waited shyly for me.

She smiled.

"Um… hi," I said. "Sh-should we go?"

Isadora nodded, and I began walking. I only managed to get a few paces before I realised that Isadora hadn't followed me. I stopped and turned back around.

"Are you coming?" I asked.

She blushed, turning her head to the side where Michael, Evan and Caton all had their arms linked with the girls.

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Alright," I mumbled, offering her my arm.

Oh, how Mum and Father would be so pleased with me right now.

The tables in the Great Hall had disappeared, and were instead replaced by smaller tables. Professor McGonagall stood at the entrance, greeting us all as we entered.

"Oh, how lovely it is to see first years joining in!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

_Oh, how lovely it is that I was forced into this_, I thought sourly.

The whole journey up to the Great Hall, Isadora hadn't let go of my arm. I thought it was really unbelievable that she would be so shy, but Molly whispered to me that she was still shaken up after her date had refused her.

Whoever had knocked her back, I really wanted to punch him right now. Because of him, I was stuck with her.

Molly and Michael led the way, where they sat down at an unoccupied table. We were only there for a few moments when Michael let out a gasp.

I jumped, startled, and then looked to where he was looking. I couldn't believe it! How the hell had she managed to get here?

Rose Weasley came in on the arm of somebody I didn't know, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"She can't be here!" I exclaimed.

Molly turned to me with a curious expression. "Didn't she tell you?" she asked.

"We're not exactly _friends_," I retorted.

"James managed to convince one of his friends to take her. He felt bad when he said he wouldn't."

"I got the impression James didn't like her that much," I said, genuinely surprised. I mean, it was hard for anybody to like Rose, really.

Molly shook her head. "Are you kidding?" she said. "They're like best friends. They're really close, and actually closer in age than Rosie and Al are."

That was news to me and I was thoroughly disappointed now that she was there. I was supposed to rub it in her face that I had attended and she hadn't. How was I supposed to do that now?

Seeing Rose there put me in an even worse mood than I already was. Not only did I have to endure this stupid Ball with Isadora who clung to my arm like I was the only source of life, I couldn't help but see Rose Weasley every five seconds.

She danced with the second year Gryffindor like there was no tomorrow. And she seemed delighted about it, too.

He didn't seem to mind too much, either, which surprised me. Did somebody actually exist who was able to endure her presence?

Isadora kept pestering me to dance with her until I finally relented. Professor Longbottom came around with a camera, snapping pictures. Unfortunately, he managed to get one of me just as Isadora threw her arms around my neck and pressed her cheek right up on mine.

What would my parents say if they saw it?

_You're too young to be dating_, Scorp, Mum would say.

_But, I'm not_, I'd tell her in reply.

Then she'd look at me disapprovingly, not believing me.

Why had I come here, anyway?

The night wore on, and my eyes began to slowly grow heavy. The clock told me it was almost midnight. When did this stupid thing end? I had tried on multiple times to escape back to the common room, but Isadora wouldn't have a bar of it. No, she insisted we stay until they play the last song.

That didn't mean I had to dance, though. As people started to drift away – most to bed – I pulled away from the second year Slytherin and marched over to our table where Michael sat with his head in his hands. I wondered if he was sleeping, but as I sat down, he looked up wearily.

"Can we go yet?" he asked, yawning.

"I think so," I answered.

Isadora looked highly affronted. She'd been shy to begin with, but after she grew comfortable, she'd become quite demanding. Whoever that bloke was to turn her down, I didn't blame him. I would have too.

"You can't just leave me here!" she accused.

"No one else is here," I retorted. "They'll close the doors before you want to go back." I got to my feet. I had done everything she'd asked for the past few hours, but this time, I wasn't going to fall for it. Tomorrow was Christmas. I didn't want to sleep in too long tomorrow morning.

Michael followed suit. Molly was nowhere to be seen until we reached the doors. She was carrying two drinks.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To bed," I answered.

Michael nodded wearily. "To bed," he repeated.

"Well, where's Izzy?" Molly questioned.

I waved my hand in the direction of the table. "There," I said.

The girl's jaw dropped. "You just left her?" she said.

I nodded, then shrugged. "She didn't want to leave, I did."

Looking thoroughly ticked off now, the thirteen-year-old shot both Michael and I a very cold look, and stormed off to tend to her friend.

Turning to Michael, we both shrugged, confused by the girls' obsessions, and continued on to the common room.

The ground floor was the busiest I'd ever seen it at night. All those people I had watched leave hadn't actually gone to bed at all. Many stood outside, talking to their friends. Some of the older girls were even in tears. No doubt their dates had ditched them for someone else. That was what I heard happened at these things.

Michael and I ignored them; it was not our problem. It wasn't until we reached the entrance to the dungeons that we stopped. Sniffles and snuffles were coming from inside one of the nearby classrooms. The door was left ajar, and we couldn't help but stick our head in, just to see who else was upset over some boy.

Just my luck that sitting at the very end desk, right at the back, was none other than Rose Weasley. What on Earth had happened to her to get her so worked up?

"Let's go," I said, stepping away.

"She looks really upset, though," Michael said. "Maybe we should see if she's okay."

"That second year probably realised how annoying she is and ditched her," I said. "Let her suffer."

She must have heard me, because she looked up and saw us standing there.

"Hello?" she sniffed.

Michael pushed the door further open. "Er… are you okay?" he asked.

Rose shook her head. "No," she said.

"What happened?"

I sighed. Was I ever going to get to bed tonight?

"Oh, nothing that concerns you," Rose sobbed. "I just… well Bartley, he told me I wasn't a very good dancer."

I suppressed a laugh, but I couldn't control the little snort that escaped.

She glared at me.

"You weren't either," she accused.

"At least I know I'm not."

Rose huffed.

"Anyway," I continued. "Why does it matter? You're only a first year. Next year you won't need some idiot second year to go with. You can go with someone else."

She seemed just as surprised as I was at my words. What in the name of Merlin was I saying?

"What I mean is… is that you're… well… you weren't _that_ bad a dancer."

Rose blinked away her tears and gave me a smile. "Thank you," she said. "But… I guess I am." She looked at her hands. "No one in my family is a good dancer."

"Well, you haven't seen me dance," Michael interrupted. "I'm hopeless."

Rose giggled. "I saw you tonight," she said. "I saw both of you tonight."

"Yeah, neither of us is great either," I told her. I backed away, making for the door. "Well, you should get to bed," I then said. "It's Christmas tomorrow. Goodnight." I flung open the door and left the room so quickly, that I was already halfway to the common room by the time Michael caught up to me.

"Was that you being nice?" he asked.

"I guess." I shrugged. "But she really wasn't that bad at dancing."

Michael snorted with laughter. "Only you'd know," he commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, continuing to walk. I was determined to get to bed before any more interruptions came.

"Just that you didn't stop glaring at her for the whole night," Michael replied, obviously confused by my reaction. "I mean, everyone knows you don't like her."

I felt my cheeks turn slightly pink. I had thought he'd been implying…. "Slytherin Salazar," I said to the wall.

Once inside, and in my room, I quickly undressed from my robes and into something much more comfortable.

I climbed into bed.

"But, it was a fun night, wasn't it?" Michael asked once we were both lying in the comfort of our warm beds.

I shrugged despite Michael not being able to see me. "I guess," I said. "Though, I won't be going again."

"I think I'd like to," Michael said. "It was enjoyable."

Michael might have been going a bit too far with that word, but I didn't say so. Instead, I drifted off to sleep, oddly dreaming of all the girls I had encountered that night.

* * *

_**Here's a new chapter :) I'm actually really enjoying writing this fic. I can't remember if I've already said that I'll be moving through their school years fairly quickly - three-four chapters each, so the next one will probably be the last on first year. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am, and your reviews are much appreciated :)**_

_**Thanks to Maya for her lovely beta-ing skills.**_


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Haven't you learned anything all year?" Rose demanded, snatching the mint leaves from my grasp before I could add them to the potion.

"What?" I demanded. "It says to put them in after the eel eye." I pointed directly to the instructions in the book. "See?"

"It also says you need to add them in after you stir _anti-clockwise_ twice," Rose argued, moving my finger to where the finer instructions were written. "How many times have I told you that you need to read everything?" She glared at me.

"As many times as I haven't listened," I mumbled, causing her to huff in indignation. "Next year, I hope we're not in the same class," I added, just for effect.

"Me too," she replied irritably, stirring anti-clockwise twice and then adding the mint leaves to the potion. It turned the perfect shade of purple as the book suggested. I sighed.

"Excellent, Miss Weasley!" Slughorn cried, coming over to our table to admire Rose's handiwork.

Rose beamed up at him. "Thank you, sir," she said.

I fiddled with my quill, in the same mood as I was in every Potions lesson. Once Slughorn had realised I did none of the work in his class, he had stopped praising me as well. It took him half the year to work it out, but after class one day, he had pulled me aside and said it was very unprofessional of me to leave everything to just one person, and that it was a team effort.

I had responded, informing him that Rose wouldn't _let_ me help, but he had simply put it down to laziness, and was constantly giving more House points to Gryffindor than he was to his own House.

It didn't make me very popular back in the common room.

"Rumour has it your Weasley friend is the reason Gryffindor are leading," Henry said to me one day. "They say you let her do all the work in Potions."

"She does," I had responded bluntly one day. "She's too bossy to work with someone else. And she's not my friend."

Despite my insistence that we weren't friends, somehow we managed to see each other at least once a day, whether it was in Potions, or in the library, or in the grounds. Sometimes she'd even come up to me on a break if I was outside. Once she even asked if she could sit with me at dinner. Either she had no friends in her own House to annoy, or she actually enjoyed my company. I preferred to think it was the former.

I didn't want to befriend her.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for brewing the perfect potion once again, Miss Weasley!" Slughorn declared, bringing me back to reality.

I sighed.

"Okay, clear your potions away now, first years," Slughorn then continued, raising his voice so the whole class could hear. "And remember, this was our last lesson before your exam in two weeks. I hope you all will study hard. I am sure you will achieve to your best abilities."

"Yeah, failing," I mumbled as I got off my seat and gathered my books and bag.

"Don't say that," Rose answered, waving her wand to clear away the potion. "You'll do fine."

I frowned at her. "That's easy for you to say," I accused. "You're too smart for your own good."

"I can help you study," she then continued, appearing to not have heard me.

"Why would I want that?"

"Because I think you really want to do well," she said matter-of-factly. "You just don't believe in yourself, and you have to. That's what my mum tells me all the time. She says I need to believe I can do it."

"And can you?" I asked despite myself. I looked at her, and she nodded.

"Yes. People can do anything if they believe they can. I'll help you study, Scorpius. We can meet tonight in the library, and we can stay for as long as you need us to. Until you understand it. Once you understand the concept of Potions, it will make a lot more sense."

I bit my lip, thinking about what she had said. She was right, of course. I really didn't want to fail at Potions, but I was hopeless at it. No amount of studying was going to help me, even if I did have the smartest person in the world teaching me.

But, I could at least try, I decided. I nodded at her. "Alright," I said.

She smiled at me. "Seven o'clock tonight?" she asked. "We can go straight from dinner."

There was a little jolt in my stomach when she said those words. Straight from dinner would mean everyone else seeing us leave together. "Er… seven-thirty?" I asked, feeling a pang of guilt as I did.

She nodded. "Okay," she said. She gave me another smile. "We have Defence now." And she left the classroom without another word.

Michael met me in the corridor, noticing my bewildered expression instantly. "What happened?" he asked.

I blinked, and then shook my head. "Nothing," I said. I wasn't going to inform my friends that I was meeting up with Rose Weasley that night. I'd never hear the end of it. Michael already thought the reason I didn't like her so much was because I _did_ like her.

There was no point in adding fuel to the fire.

Still, the anticipation of meeting Rose in the library that night remained on my mind for the rest of the day. I didn't sit with her in Defence, and then we had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, so we couldn't even speak.

I tried my hardest not to even look at her at dinner, though the desire would sometimes overwhelm me, and I'd sneak a little peek in her direction.

Why was it that I was kind of looking forward to seeing her tonight? She was annoying and was most likely going to boss me around the whole time, but I guess I'd have to suffer through it if I wanted to pass my Potions exam.

I was okay with every other subject, but Slughorn's was truly my bane, and an ironic bane at that, I realised. Weren't Slytherins supposed to be good at the subject? The last two Potions professors had been Slytherins.

"Hey, we're you going?" Michael called after me, as I left the Slytherin table quickly after dinner. "You're not coming with us tonight?"

I stopped, turning around to face him again. "Going where?" I asked.

"To the library," Michael said. "To study. Evan was supposed to tell you."

My heart began hammering furiously against my chest. The library? Of all the places my friends could have gone to tonight, it had to be the library also. Now what was I supposed to do? Tell Michael the truth, and say Rose Weasley was helping me, or tell Rose that I needed to study with my friends because being with her embarrassed me?

I didn't like Rose all that much, but I certainly wasn't cruel either. I was pretty sure her only friends were her cousins and that was why she talked to me all the time. I wasn't mean enough to hurt her feelings like that after she had offered to help me.

"So… are you coming?" Michael questioned after I'd stood there, staring at him for a good minute.

I blinked. "Er…."

"You don't have to," Michael said. "It's just, Molly and Isadora are giving us some heads up on the exam, you know? Apparently Slughorn sets the same one every year."

"They're giving you the answers?" I questioned.

Michael looked around, making sure no one was listening, and then nodded.

"But that's… cheating!" I stammered.

"Shh, will you?" Michael accused. "It's not cheating, it's studying. We're not taking the answers _into_ the exam, we're just… learning them before."

I shook my head. Although very tempting, I wasn't going to cheat. Even if I failed Potions, at least I failed on my own merits.

"No thank you," I said. "I have other plans, anyway."

Michael raised an eyebrow at me. "Like what?"

"Things," I mumbled, glancing down the walk way as I saw McGonagall heading in my direction.

"Is that what Rose and you were discussing earlier today?" Michael asked, then suddenly gasped. "Do you have a date?" he cried, turning many heads and causing me to turn bright red.

"Michael, I'm twelve," I said. "No."

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, but do you have a habit of standing in walk ways, or do you just enjoy having everyone walk around you and cause a traffic jam?"

I looked sheepishly towards the headmistress. This was not the first, nor would it probably be the last time, she had said that to me. It had become a habit of mine, actually, but only whenever McGonagall was around.

"Well, I'll see you later!" I said to Michael, and then left the Great Hall for the common room. I'd get my stuff, and then find Rose. That way we could find the deepest, darkest corner of the library where no one could see us.

OOO

I had been slightly worried that Rose would change her mind, but the moment I walked in, I saw her sitting at a table right by the door. She had books spread out across the desk with parchment piling up.

I hesitated slightly after that. I just wanted help with understanding Potions. I didn't want a lecture on the finer details. But any desire I had in me to run was squashed when she looked up and waved me over to her.

I approached unsurely. "Er, hi," I said.

"Hi," she answered, giving me a smile, before waving her wand and sending the stray parchment all into a neat pile, and the books stacked.

I blinked. She really was too smart for her own good, that girl. I could barely levitate a feather.

"Have a seat," Rose continued, indicating the chair opposite her. "I came straight after dinner," she then added, noticing the look I gave the books. "I was looking over Transfiguration."

I just nodded and set my book in front of me. It had become a bit tattered over the year from my constant throwing it across the room. I wasn't one to lose my temper normally, but Potions just irked me in a way that I couldn't explain. There was so much I hated about it, and the girl sitting opposite me was the main reason.

"So, where do you want to start?" Rose questioned, sliding my book over to face her. She flipped through the pages.

"Um… the beginning?" I suggested.

She looked at me as if I'd just called her fat. "The beginning?" she repeated.

I nodded.

"You mean, you don't even know the basics, like what Professor Slughorn has been telling us since the first lesson?"

I shook my head, my face turning a bright red against my pale skin.

She sighed. "Alright, we're in for a long night," she said, flipping back to the first page.

Her attitude angered me slightly. Just because she was smart and I wasn't….

"If I'm too much work for you, we can just forget about it," I snapped, causing a few of the silent studiers to glance up and throw me a reproachful look.

"You're not too much work," Rose answered calmly. "I just didn't realise that you were… you were…."

"That I was so dumb?"

"No, not at all," Rose insisted. "That you just didn't understand it at all. If I had known, I would have helped you ages ago."

"I thought my exploding your cauldron was enough of a hint," I mumbled sourly, snatching the book back from her.

"I just put that down to it being our first ever lesson," she answered. I didn't say anything.

"Well, I'm not here to listen to you tell me how stupid I am," I said. "So, can we just get started?"

Rose nodded, and from the pile of books on the table, she pulled out her own copy of my book.

"Well, one of the most important things to remember is that you need to know how to use the ingredients correctly. One little thing can cause the whole potion to be a disaster, as you probably know."

I scowled.

"You have to make sure you follow instructions specifically, too. If the method says to stir once, then you stir _once_. If it says stir once clockwise, and once again, anti-clockwise, then you do that."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, jotting down a few points on a spare bit of parchment I had brought with me. This was going to be a long night, especially if she was going to go through every chapter of the book in detail.

"And make sure you have all the ingredients laid out before you start, because sometimes, potions will insist that you add the next ingredient after a specific time. You don't want to get caught out if you're slow at preparing the next ingredient."

I added that to my notes.

"How did Father ever succeed at this subject?" I groaned.

"It's a difficult subject," Rose assured me. "Many people struggle."

"You don't."

"I have to focus really hard, though. I have to study a lot to understand it."

I groaned again, throwing my quill on the table. "Okay," I said. "I give up. Thank you for offering to help me, but I think I might just fail this subject. It will be much easier than trying to understand it. I think it's safe to say that I won't be becoming the next Potions professor any time soon."

"Don't say that!" Rose said. "You're probably better at it than you think, you just have to believe in yourself."

"Enough with the _believing in yourself_ nonsense," I said. "It's not true."

"It is. Come on, we can study for an hour, and then after that, we can maybe organise more times over the next week to meet up. You can do it, Scorpius, I know you can."

I stared, bewildered, at the red-haired girl before me. Why was she so adamant in helping me when I had been nothing but rude to her for the whole year? I had given her no reason to want to help me, yet here she was. She probably had better things to do than be here, but she wasn't doing them.

That annoying pang of guilt crept up on me again as I remembered all the nasty things I had said about her behind her back. Maybe she wasn't so bad for a Weasley. At least she didn't watch me with adoration like her cousin, Molly, did.

"Okay!" I relented. "If you think I can do it, then I'll give it my best shot."

She smiled. "Let's get started then. We'll go through a chapter or two each night, and at the end, I'll test you. How does that sound?"

I nodded. "That sounds good," I said.

And so, that began mine and Rose Weasley's 'study relationship'. Every night, we'd meet in the library, and every night, we'd go through a chapter. After an hour or two, she would ask me some questions, and each night, I got more and more right.

By the end of the first week, I was satisfied that I knew enough to at least pass Potions. I wrote to my parents:

_Dear Mum and Father,_

_Remember how I wrote not so long ago and said I hated Potions and was scared of failing? Well, I'm not anymore. I've been getting help someone and they have been helping me a lot. I now don't think I will fail. I don't think I'll be brilliant, but I think Slughorn will be happy with my results considering I almost always manage to make a potion incorrectly._

_So, don't worry about me anymore. I have everything under control._

_From Scorpius._

The next day my owl was sitting on his perch in the dormitory, my parents' reply attached to his leg.

I opened it.

_Dearest Scorpius,_

_That is wonderful news, darling! We always thought you could do it if you put your mind to it. Who is this friend who has been helping you? He must be incredibly intelligent._

_We are sure you'll do your best in the exam, Scorp. _

_Much love,_

_Your parents_

I stared at the letter. _He_ must be incredibly intelligent? How was I supposed to inform Mum and Father that not only was the person helping me a _girl_, but also a _Weasley_ girl? They'd probably prefer that I failed than get help from her.

Maybe it was about time I came clean. Even after meeting Michael once over Easter, my parents still didn't know he was a Muggleborn. I assume that they had guessed due to the fact that he gawked at everything inside our house, but I've never told them.

Maybe it was time to tell them that my life at Hogwarts wasn't as _pure_ as they thought it to be.

But not right now, I decided. I was meeting Rose after dinner, and I didn't want to be late. It was strange, but I had actually come to look forward our meetings. She wasn't so bad, Rose. Yes, she was still more annoying than a frog in your throat, but she did have her moments.

I still wouldn't have called us friends, but at least I didn't completely hate her anymore. At least I could say her name with a smile on my face.

OOO

The exam wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I knew the answers to most of the questions, and I walked out of the Hall feeling quite pleased with myself. Just as I was putting everything back into my bag, Rose came up beside me, walking in sync.

"How did you find it?" she asked.

I nodded. "It was pretty good," I said. "And I'm so glad we went over that question about eel eye last night," I then added, remembering that it had been something I had been reluctant to learn because I thought it unimportant. Now, I was glad that Rose had insisted, because it had been a big question in the paper.

She smiled at me. "It was a lot harder than I expected it to be, though." She frowned as we continued walking. I turned my head slightly to look at her.

"I thought it was a lot easier than I expected," I countered. Truthfully, if I hadn't studied, it would have been impossible, so anything was easier than that.

"Are you pleased that that was the last exam?" she then asked me.

I nodded. Words could not express how relieved I was to be done with those exams. I had another whole year before I would get more, and I was in no hurry for that time to come anytime soon.

"Me too. I mean, I do like to do well, but I was kind of sick of studying. I can't wait to go home and see Mum and Dad and Hugo again. I've missed them so much."

I didn't know who Hugo was, but I assumed he was her brother. Or maybe he was her cat. I never bothered asking.

"Well, I can't wait to get home and see my mum and dad again either," I lied. "I've missed them too."

It wasn't a lie as such, I guessed. I mean, I did miss them, I just didn't miss their way of life. Being here at Hogwarts with all these different people of different blood status and experience was much better than home. These people were friendly and they didn't judge me as much.

I just wished everywhere in the world, people were like this.

"Okay, well, I'll see you soon, Scorpius." We'd stopped near the entrance to the Slytherin common room. How Rose had known it was there, I didn't know, but I had given up wondering about her. She knew a lot, I should have just assumed she'd know where all the common rooms were too.

"Bye," I said, and then hurried away, and entering the common room with a smile on my face. I hadn't noticed it until Molly Weasley – Rose's cousin of all people – pointed it out.

"What's that stupid grin for?" she asked, folding her arms. Ever since word – thanks to Michael – had gotten out that Rose was helping me to study, Molly had completely changed her attitude towards me. She had once been a rather friendly girl, who would sit next to me, offer me any food she might have, and ask me if I was okay. Now, she would give me the coldest stare, and turn her head if I tried to talk to her.

"Exams are over," I said. "What's not to be happy about?"

Her expression softened after that. "Oh, of course. I thought you were smiling because you'd been spending time with… never mind. So, how was your last exam?"

I nodded. "Good," I said. "I think I passed, which is good."

She nodded. "Yeah, good work."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Michael and Evan came through the entrance with Molly's two friends. We turned around to greet them.

"That was the hardest exam ever!" Michael complained the moment he laid eyes on me. "Don't you think?"

I shrugged.

"Oh, that's right, you had Weasley's help."

At the mention of Rose's name, Molly's girlfriends groaned. I looked at them, wide-eyed.

Molly ignored them, pretending she hadn't heard a thing. "Anyway, what're your plans for the summer?" she asked me. "Anything?"

I shrugged again. "Same as always," I told her. "My parents' dinner parties and dances and inviting the likes of Henry Goyle over to cement our friendship…."

"You should write to me," Molly continued without acknowledging that she had heard me. "I respond really quickly."

"Um…."

"I will, I swear. I always do."

Her friends nodded. "She does," Isadora confirmed.

"Er… alright," I said just so she'd stop pestering me.

Molly beamed. "Great!" she said. "Well, the end of year fest is in two days so we'll sort out details then, okay?"

I nodded.

"See you, Malfoy."

"Er… bye."

The moment she walked away, Michael snorted with laughter. "Why don't you just snog her and get it over with?" he asked, stifling more laughter.

My face turned a deep shade of red. "I. Don't. Fancy. Her," I said through gritted teeth. And, I was much too young to be snogging anyone.

"Well, she certainly fancies you," Michael said, grinning from ear to ear. "Are you going to exchange love letters over summer?"

I resisted the urge to hit Michael. This was ridiculous. I couldn't wait for term to end; that way I could go home and not speak to anyone about anybody… especially not about girls.

"Stop it, okay?" I said, seething now. "Molly can write to me if she wants, but I'm not replying. I'll just tell her that her letter got lost or something. My mother and father would not have me corresponding with a Weasley."

"Like Rose, you mean? What did they say to that?"

I blushed slightly. "Haven't told them," I mumbled, looking at my feet. "They say they don't care, but I know they wouldn't like me being friends with the Weasleys or a Mugglebo –" I stopped, realising what I was about to say.

"With a Muggleborn?" Michael asked.

I looked away, before shrugging. "It doesn't bother me, though," I assured him.

"But they were so nice to me when I came to stay with you," Michael protested.

I didn't say anything.

"Oh," was Michael's reply.

"Listen, I only haven't told them because I still want to be friends with you," I said. "If they knew… well, they'd probably force Henry on me… and I don't want that. So, it's best if they don't know, especially Mum, okay? Father wouldn't like it all that much, but he wouldn't say anything, because of some things that happened to him as a kid or something. Mum would pretend to smile, and then try and encourage me to spend more time with Henry."

"But I'm in Slytherin?" Michael offered.

I nodded. "Exactly," I said. I didn't bother to explain that my parents' views on Muggleborns in Slytherins were very old fashioned. That could be saved for another day.

"Well, I'm sure they'll come round one day?" Michael questioned.

I nodded again. "Yeah, maybe."

"Until then, write to me over summer," Michael instructed. "I want to teach my parents owl post."

I smiled. "Alright," I said, feeling a lot happier now. I didn't want to have to write to Molly, but Michael I could write to. He was my first ever friend, and he was a good friend too. I hoped that we could be friends for a very long time.

* * *

_**This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but first year is over! I hope you liked, and look forward to see their relationship develop in second year a little bit more. Thanks once again for all your fantabulous reviews and to Maya for once again beta-ing.**_

_**If you feel like something to do, over on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum, I have a challenge running that is Fanfiction, School of Imagination and Creativity. It is a 3 month competition I am doing with someone that will run between June and August. If you're interested, feel free to sign up.**_


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Being home made me realise how much I actually liked being at Hogwarts. Despite having to deal with Molly and Rose – and their friends – on my back all the time, it was better than being at home with my parents.

I loved them, I really did, but Mum fussed too much and Father had too much work on to notice me.

So that left me to myself and our house-elf, Trixie, who seemed determined to please. Now that I was back from Hogwarts, she treated me more like she treated my parents – like an adult, I suppose.

It was rather annoying actually. She tried to serve me cups of tea and other things that my parents did at their tea parties. Despite only being twelve, apparently going to Hogwarts made everyone believe I was a lot older than I actually was.

I really didn't do much over the break. What was there to do? Henry Goyle came over occasionally, and virtually destroyed my room as he searched for who knows what.

It seemed that Mum and Father still thought we were friends, because apparently Henry was nothing but polite to me and them. If only they could catch him off guard and see what a brute he actually was. Maybe then they'd think twice before inviting him over to spend time with me.

Other than those days, my life was pretty boring. I lay in my room, on my bed, playing wizard's chess against myself, and staring at blank ceilings.

Had life here always been that boring?

On one such morning – where I'd just bothered to get out of bed around midday – there was a tapping at my window. Flapping its wings in front of me, the owl I didn't recognise continued to tap until I let it in.

Once I'd opened the window – grumbling about how it was too early for mail – the bird flew in and landed on my bed, hooting once.

I stared at the owl, trying to work out where I knew it from. I didn't know it by name, but it looked vaguely familiar.

Maybe it was a Hogwarts owl.

Yes! That had to be it! My list of new things for the next year had arrived.

I tore the letter from the owl's leg, and opened it. Much to my dismay, it wasn't from Hogwarts at all, and as I read down the parchment, I now knew why I had seen the bird before.

It belonged to Rose Weasley – I had seen her with it in Transfiguration.

Why was she writing to me?

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I hope your holidays are going well. Mine are great! My mum and dad took me and my brother to visit my Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur. They leave by a beach at a place called shell cottage, and it's really nice there._

_My cousins were there too, which was good fun. Do you remember Victoire? Maybe not. She was in my house in seventh year. She was the one that looked like a veela (which is because she is!)_

_Anyway, I can't wait to hear from you soon. I hope you're having a good time, and when you reply, I'll be back home. Quinn will know where to find me, though._

_From Rose_

I stared blankly at the letter for a good few minutes, trying to process what I had just read.

_When_ I reply? She'd written the stupid letter with the assumption that I would reply to her, but when had I ever given her that impression? Yes, she had helped me for our exams, and yes I didn't hate her as much as I originally did, but that didn't mean that we were friends by any means.

I had my friends, and they were Michael and Evan. They didn't write to me (in fact, I hadn't heard a thing from either of them), so why did she think she could send me a letter?

Scowling, I screwed the parchment into a tiny ball and threw it at the wall. I jumped back, startled, when the letter exploded in front of me, leaving scorch marks just below my Puddlemere poster.

I stared, wide-eyed.

"Scorpius, darling, is everything okay?"

Mum appeared in the doorway, looking worried. I scratched my head, still confused, and turned to her. "Yes," I said. "I just…." My eyes darted to the mark on the wall again. Mum saw it too.

"Scorpius!" she cried. "What have you done here? You've put a hole in your wall!" Without invitation, she hurried into my room to study the damage. "What happened?" she demanded.

I shook my head. "I… I don't know. I got a letter and… and…." The ball of parchment lay at Mum's feet. She picked it up, extinguishing the last bit of flame.

"Is this one of your friends playing a joke?" she asked, unfolding it and trying to read it. Thankfully, it was too burnt to read anything. I'm not sure what Mum would have done had she discovered a Weasley was sending me letters.

"Probably," I mumbled, taking the letter from her.

"Was it that Michael boy? There was something strange about him when he was here last… what did you say his last name was?"

"Lang…" I replied.

Mum thought for a moment. "Lang… Lang… I've heard it before somewhere. He must be of a Chinese Pureblood decent."

I shrugged, feigning ignorance. Well, they did say all Muggleborns had some magical blood in them. Perhaps one of Michael's ancestors was a Pureblood wizard, who had had a Squib for a son.

"Well, tell your friend that we don't appreciate such behaviour in our house," Mum continued, looking back at the mark on the wall. She took out her wand, muttered some words, and it was fixed.

I nodded, waiting for her to leave, but she stopped right at the door. "Oh, by the way, Scorp. Before that incident, I was actually on my way here to tell you that your grandmother would like to see you. She has something for you." Despite her anger just moments ago, she smiled now.

I nodded. Well, anything was better than here, I supposed. Besides, I was curious to see what Grandma Malfoy had for me. I hoped it was something worthwhile.

She was in her bedroom at the other end of the house. She rarely left it these days, something about being too fragile to go anywhere else. I'm not sure what Father meant when he said that, because she never seemed fragile to me, but what did I know? I was just a kid to them; they told me nothing.

I knocked on the closed door, and a voice from the other side called, "Come in!" I twisted the knob and opened the door slowly, peeking in to see what I was being summoned for.

Grandma Malfoy was sitting at a desk in her room, her fingers flicking through what looked strangely like old photographs.

I sighed. I'd really hoped this wasn't going to be one of those times where she made me sit and look at pictures of my grandfather and father. I'd seen them all enough times, and frankly, I had better things to do… like respond to Rose Weasley and find out what I did to cause her to put a hole in my wall.

My grandmother beckoned me towards her, and I approached, resisting another sigh. She smiled at me.

"I have barely seen you since you returned from Hogwarts, young man," she said.

I blushed.

"Are you going to tell me what it was like there? How did you find it?"

I shrugged. "Was fine," I mumbled. "Probably like it was for you."

Grandma Malfoy smiled at me again, and then looked down at the photographs. "Anyway, I have something for you."

I held my breath, wondering what one she'd give me; but to my surprise, she pushed them aside and waved her wand. A small box zoomed towards her, falling gently in front of her at the desk.

I stared.

"What's in there?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"You will see in time, Scorpius," she said. She lifted the lid from the box, and I wiggled to see what was inside, but she moved it away. Eventually, from it, she removed what appeared to be a plain, old bowtie. Nothing spectacular. It was black and the neck piece was worn and tattered.

I frowned.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Grandma said, "But it belonged to your great-grandfather on my side. My father."

I didn't understand. Why was she telling me this?

"It brought him great luck all through his life… especially luck with the ladies." A sly smile formed on her lips and I felt my cheeks turn red.

"You remind me a lot of him. He was ambitious, yet he was a very intelligent man, and therefore, I'd like you to have it." She pushed the box towards me, the old bowtie sitting inside.

I picked it up. "Er… thanks, Grandma," I said, trying to sound excited. "I love it!"

"I know you won't find any use for it until this coming year with the Christmas Ball, but it'd be wonderful, Scorpius, if you could wear it. After all, you have Black blood inside of you, and even though the name has died out, you can carry on the tradition of wearing the tie."

I internally sighed. When would they realise that I had no interest in carrying on any family name? I didn't care about the Black name which ended with my grandmother's generation, and nor did I care all that much for the Malfoy name. Well, not in the way the rest of my family did.

It didn't bother me in the slightest if I was the last one to have that name. It was just a name.

Grandma's eyes were pleading, though, and as she paid me more attention than my parents on occasions, I nodded, just to keep her happy. "I'll wear it for the Ball," I promised her. _The Ball I'll never attend_.

She smiled, satisfied. "Thank you, Scorpius, dear. That means a lot to me." She placed the lid back over her gift and put the box in my hands. "Treat it carefully," she warned. "It is the only thing that belonged to my father that hasn't been destroyed yet. Your great-aunt Bellatrix took care of that." A sour expression formed on her face.

I took the bowtie back to my room and sat the box on my bed, frowning at it. What an odd gift to have received… even from my grandmother. Maybe Father was right… maybe she was becoming more fragile each day.

I sighed. Well, Mum would probably make me take it back to Hogwarts, so I supposed I had no choice; but taking it was one thing, wearing it was another. Grandma's first mistake was assuming I was attending the next Ball or whatever it was; her second was thinking I'd wear something so degrading.

Sometimes, I swore my family hated me and secretly wanted me to suffer. It was the only thing that made sense at times like these.

I turned back to the wall where Rose's letter had previously singed it before Mum had repaired it. Roght, I had to respond to her to ask what she was doing. I'd think it was a joke if someone else had sent it to me, but Rose didn't joke.

In fact, I don't think I even saw her smile that much.

I took out a quill and some parchment and began writing.

_Rose,_

_That was a really cruel trick you played. Your parents might think it's funny, but mine certainly don't. My mother wasn't happy at all, and she now thinks very lowly of you. I don't think you should send a letter again. My parents won't like it._

_From Scorpius_

I folded up the piece of parchment and attached it to her owl's leg, who was still resting on the window sill, waiting for me to respond. Quinn, had she called him? What a stupid name.

Quinn took off the moment the letter was secured, and I watched until it was just a speck in the sky. No sooner had I closed the window was there another tap on it.

I looked up, frowning. Even using magic it was impossible to reply so quickly. But it wasn't Rose's owl this time. The one at my window now was a small, tawny brown thing. Its feathers were all neat and tidy, and it looked very proud.

I let it in.

_Well, I'm popular today_, I thought, taking this letter from the creature. I read it, resisting the urge to throw _that_ one against a wall.

If hearing from Rose wasn't bad enough, but now I had to receive a letter from her _cousin_ as well? I didn't know which was worse. Rose was annoying, but Molly was irritating. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve the attention of two Weasleys. Molly's sister looked nice – she was quiet. Why couldn't she have chosen to write to me?

_Hey Scorpius! my letters must keep going missing, but i'm not sure how, because Eloise keeps returning empty. i've sent my dad's work owl this time. they are supposed to be the best, but you will need to reply quickly. he will be angry if he finds out. i hope you get this soon. from Molly._

I shook my head. You'd think she would have gotten the message the first three times I didn't respond to her. She'd been sending me letters all holidays and I wasn't interested in the slightest.

I scowled, and went to scrunch that letter up too, but remembering what Rose's had done, and my mother's reaction, I decided against it. Instead, I tore it into tiny pieces and put it into the paper bin that was there. The bin – enchanted – swallowed the paper, hopefully never to be seen again.

Well, this had been an eventful few hours, and for the love of Merlin, I hoped it would be the last time it happened.

OOO

Apparently, no such luck though. Two days after I'd responded to Rose Weasley's letter, she replied, accusing me of making up stories. I then wrote another one, and within a week, the two of us were corresponding once a day.

It had started out as rather unfriendly, me accusing her of trying to sabotage me, she blaming my temper on everything. Eventually, though, our topics changed to other, more friendly subjects.

I mentioned something about Father getting tickets to the Puddlemere and Cannons match next week. She responded by saying how her dad wanted to go to that, and was trying to make her go with him. She hated Quidditch, though, and really didn't want to, but she liked to spend time with her dad, so was in two minds.

I said I was going, and then, astonished, asked why she didn't like Quidditch. That idea was foreign to me. Everyone liked _Quidditch_. Father always got seats in a special box with the best view for all Puddlemere games (he was part owner) and I didn't think I'd missed one since I was four.

Rose, on the other hand, had only been to two matches her whole life, and both were when she was really little. Her aunt – Ginny Weasley – used to play for the Harpies, but apparently even as a kid she hadn't been interested, so when her dad and brother went, she and her mum went somewhere else.

Through the letters, I told her to give it another go now that she was a bit older, but she said the House matches were enough for her and she was by no means interested. Flying terrified her apparently.

At that last letter, I had no choice. It was so strange for someone of magical blood to think Quidditch was boring, so I had to ask Father if she could come with me. Maybe she'd like it more from a box.

I found him in his study going over his notes for his work. Normally I didn't like disturbing him – he didn't mind though – but this was urgent.

"Er… Father?" I said.

He glanced up from what he was writing and gave me a warm smile. "Scorp," he said. "What is it?"

"You know how you can get tickets to Puddlemere games?" I said.

He nodded.

"How many can you get?"

Father shook his head and then shrugged. "As many as I'd like," he said. "At the home games, that is. Why?"

"I have some people I'd like to invite… if that's alright."

At my words, Father's expression softened and he smiled. "Certainly, Scorpius. Your friends would be more than welcome to come along. Is it that Michael and Evan?"

"Um… well Michael I think would like it. He's never seen a Quidditch match before."

At that, Father frowned, and I wanted to kick myself. I still hadn't told my parents Michael's blood status, and no pureblood or half-blood would never have not seen Quidditch before.

"And Rose," I hurried on before he could question me.

"Rose?" Father looked as if he was trying to work out if I'd mentioned her before. I hadn't; he may have been okay with me being friends with a Muggleborn, but I didn't think he'd like me being friends with a Weasley (I guess that was what me and Rose were now).

I hesitated and then said, "Rose Weasley."

His eyes widened, as expected, but surprisingly, he didn't jump to his feet and start demanding I cut all ties with her. He didn't look overly enthused, but not angry either.

Instead, he said, "You're friends with a Weasley? Is she the Slytherin one? I heard there was a Weasley in Slytherin."

I shook my head. "No, she's Gryffindor," I said. "She was my Potions partner, and she was the one who helped me study for it, and she says she doesn't like Quidditch."

"Well, Scorp, if that's the case, why are you inviting her?"

"To change her mind." A thought then crossed my mind – one I definitely knew Father wouldn't appreciate. "Oh, and, er… her dad wants her to go with him, but I think if she goes with me and not him, he'll be upset, so can he come too?"

I think the only thing that was stopping Father from denying this request was the fact he still didn't know who Rose belonged to. "Scorpius… I'm not sure that would be a good idea…."

I shook my head. "But… please?" The reasons Father didn't want to say yes were trivial. Things happened a long time ago now. Didn't he even work with most of them? Surely they could get past their differences and share a box at a Quidditch match.

"Who's her father?"

I shrugged. Rose never had told me that, but I don't think it mattered. Father hated all of them.

"She has a little brother," I offered anyway. "Hugo, I think."

There was no recognition in my father's eyes, which was probably a good thing. "I will have to think about it, Scorp," he said after a moment of silence. "I know you don't understand, but essentially, our families fought on different sides of the war, and people died, most likely at each other's hands."

I sighed. "Can I still invite Michael, then?"

He nodded. "Yes, I don't see any problem with that."

I wrote to Michael straight afterwards, and he responded within a few hours, telling me he'd love to go. That cheered me up a little, but as I thought about me and Michael going, I found that I'd really had my heart set on Rose being there too, and it depressed me a little.

I didn't know why I wanted her to go so much, but I supposed after our letters I saw her as a friend. Her letters weren't nearly as annoying as she was.

The Quidditch match loomed, and the day before, Rose sent a letter to inform me that she'd been convinced by her parents that going would be good and that she might see me there. She said something about sitting in the Minister for Magic's box, which I don't think was too far from the box I was sitting in.

Father asked where Michael lived so we could pick him up, so I finally had to confess that he lived in a Muggle village and lived a very magic-free life when not at Hogwarts. Surprisingly, he didn't seem too phased by that; it was Mum who was more concerned.

"He was a bit of a rude boy, poking around our house like that," she said just as we were about to leave. Mum didn't really like Puddlemere or the Cannons, but she was coming along anyway – maybe to keep an eye on Michael.

"He was just curious," I explained. "I mean, he's never seen a wizard's house before."

"And he was placed in Slytherin?" she asked me, just to be sure.

I nodded.

This seemed to ease her mind slightly, and we were on our way. Dad Apparated me to Michael's village, which was on the coast, bordering England and Scotland. It was a nice place, but very Muggle-ish, and it made me feel rather uncomfortable.

Michael's house wasn't very big, so no wonder he'd been so amazed by mine. He lived with just his mother and younger sister, and when Father and I knocked on the door, it was his mum that answered.

She smiled.

"You must be Scorpius," she said, looking down at me. I nodded, and Father introduced himself.

"Come in, come in!" his mother then ushered. "Michael's talked a lot about you. He's very excited to be going to this…."

"Quidditch match," I offered with a smile.

"Yes, that's it. It's all still so new to me. Of course, you probably know all about this… this Quidditch?"

I nodded. Father looked way too perplexed to say anything. He was looking around the small house, appearing very uncomfortable with Michael's mother's friendliness.

Michael appeared from a hallway a moment later, carrying a backpack and his Slytherin scarf around his neck despite it being summer. He beamed.

"Ready!" he said. His mother kissed him – much to his disgust – and we were leaving again, this time Apparating back home. We had to get to the game via Portkey, which was going to leave in twenty minutes. Father had organised it weeks ago – it was an old drink can that had been discarded by some Muggle.

"Hi, Michael." Mum greeted my friend with a forced smile.

"Hi Mrs. Malfoy," Michael replied cheerfully.

The Portkey couldn't have left soon enough. I was dying to get out of my tension-filled house and into the stadium where we'd get the best view of the match. As expected, it was packed, and the majority of supporters were there for Puddlemere, which had been the most popular team for a long time.

We piled into the team's box, and I chanced a glance across at the Minister's, but there were only a few people in there, and none of them were Rose.

I tried not to look too disappointed, but Michael noticed. "What's wrong?" he asked, chewing on a liquorice wand he'd bought from a stall.

"Nothing," I said. "Just… Rose is supposed to be here."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you two friends?"

"We're not. We just… well, we are, but I wanted to invite her here with us, but Father wouldn't allow it. So she's with her dad in the Minister's box."

Michael shook his head. "I thought you hated her."

"She's not too bad."

"Sounds like someone has a crush."

"I do not!" I snapped. "She helped me pass Potions. I think I owe her something, don't I?"

Michael shrugged, and thankfully, the conversation died as the pre-entertainment arrived, distracting Michael with his fascination.

"WOAH!" he exclaimed as two balls of fire zoomed right towards us, dissolving just as quickly.

"Welcome to Quidditch!" I exclaimed cheerfully.

I kept glancing over to the box, but the more who arrived, the less I saw of any red hair. Maybe she'd changed her mind. Yeah, that was probably it. She'd probably talked her dad out of making her go.

But then, I heard something I never thought I'd hear. Her voice right beside me. "Hi, Scorpius. Hi, Michael."

For a moment, I just stared, unable to speak, but eventually managed to splutter a hello. She smiled.

"Apparently my Uncle Harry talked my dad into letting me come and join you here," she explained before I had the chance to ask. "He didn't like it, and blatantly refused to join me, but he and Mum said I could sit here, and he'd meet me afterwards."

Michael cheered, while I looked to Father, who was doing a very bad job at pretending not to hear us. He was talking to Mum, but I knew both their ears were here.

The game started shortly after that, and even though Rose was sitting in the Puddlemere box, she said she was more inclined to cheer for the Cannons, because that was her dad's team.

However, she was left rather disappointed, as half an hour later, the Puddlemere Seeker caught the Snitch by one of the goal posts, and they won one-hundred and ninety to sixty.

Her father wasn't at all impressed when we found him near the exit, muttering about fouls that should have been awarded.

Rose rolled her eyes. "He's always like that," she said to me quietly. "Even when they win."

"Which isn't often."

"Hey, they beat the Tornadoes the other week, and they're the top team." For someone who claimed to have no interest in Quidditch whatsoever, she got quite upset when someone said something bad about her team.

I said goodbye to her after that, our parents barely looking at each other. She followed her dad to a safe Apparition point, whereas I left with Father to take Michael home.

Michael had had a great time there – even if it was quite a short match – and had decided that his new favourite team was Puddlemere.

"And," he said as we walked down the quiet road to Michael's house, "I think we should try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team when we go back to school. I wouldn't mind being Seeker."

I didn't say anything to that – Seeker was my spot, and the current Seeker had just left. I'd been hoping to get it.

"Or maybe Beater," Michael continued. "I could throw some Bludgers at James Potter if you'd like."

"Why James Potter?" I asked.

Michael shrugged. "I didn't think you liked him."

Truthfully, I didn't know James Potter well enough to form an opinion. Obviously, it was in my blood to naturally dislike him, but I didn't really want to cause any trouble where there was none. It was better if we just ignored each other.

Michael's mother tried to invite us in for tea, but Father politely refused, and marched me back to the Apparition point to go home.

"Thanks for allowing Rose to come," I said once we arrived back in the living room.

Father shook his head. "Don't mention it," he said, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"You okay?" Mum asked, coming to join us. She'd gone home by herself earlier, not feeling the need to be there with Michael also.

"Perkins," Father mumbled, and I sighed, realising Father's mind was on Quidditch. "That's his third bad game this season."

"It was only a short game," Mum reasoned. "I mean, he didn't really have to do much."

"He missed that shot from right in front," Father argued. "Manten was going the other way, too."

"We all have our bad days."

"I'm going to have to talk to the coach – get him to have a look at some of the students coming through. Scorp could play better than Perkins did tonight."

I walked away, not caring about who was playing what position. It wouldn't have even mattered that much had Puddlemere lost. The most important part was that I finally had friends.

I'd never been to a Quidditch match with people other than my parents before. I'd never known anyone worth going with.

Having Michael there had made it the best game ever! And, even though it hadn't changed Rose's mind on the sport, I supposed it was fun having her there too.

Even if it did mean I got a very embarrassing letter from Michael the next day, asking if I'd heard from my _girlfriend_ yet.

* * *

_**Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. I had exams, and then my beta luckily went on a holiday, but here is chapter 5. I hope you like, and your reviews would be much appreciated.**_


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